Educated by the Serpent
by Princess LaLaBlue
Summary: Sarah knew herself as a not so happy go lucky girl with unusual temper issues. SHIELD knew her from their threat watch. And Loki gets to know her as his personal pain in the neck, his student. Join Sarah as SHIELD 'invites' her to learn more about her telekinetic powers with the help of a surly teacher who schemes of taking over the world, again, in between their lessons.
1. Mad and Bad

Chapter 1; Mad and Bad:

Warning; Rated M for swearing, violence, lemony things, lots of cool psychic happenings and awesome superheroes. You have been warned…

Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Avengers' or any of its characters, I am only using them to fulfill my own disillusioned dreams and fan-girl wishes. : P

I just want to take a second to thank a very special person on this website; **Miss Pibbles**. Without her, this story wouldn't exist, she is a wonderful source of inspiration as well as a tremendous help. Please, if my little story fails to capture your interest, give her Avengers fic, titled **_Use Me_**, Loki x OC, and rated M a chance. Where mine had failed, hers will succeed, no doubt! Thank you and good day!

~o0o~

They would kill him.

They would banish him.

They would kill him.

They would leave him to rot in his stony prison for all eternity.

They would kill him.

Loki let out a sigh of pure boredom and frustration as he stared down at the cobble stone beneath his bare feet, counting the grey slabs off as one would pluck the petals of a flower.

They would turn him into a Bilgesnipe.

They would kill him.

They would…

Though Loki highly doubted that his false family would ever conceive the possibility of killing the adopted monster they saw as a troubled child to be pitied, he still entertained the idea. The hypocrites were more than willing to keep him locked away for three months in a cell that had no windows or furniture, his mouth sewn tightly shut with thick, black thread. So the chance of death by their hands was exactly that, a chance. One that he almost wished would happen.

At least then he would not have to deal with their visits, mocking pity as they pleaded with him to see the error of his ways. When he visited, Thor especially would try his best to convince his beloved brother that his crimes against the Midgardians was something to regret, and that if he saw that he would then have a chance to be a fellow ruler of Asgard, a king. A chance to be king…their taunting knew no bounds, did it?

Even Odin would mention the bribe of the crown whenever he came into the black pits of his gilded palace, lecturing over and over again how that only when Loki learned compassion and tolerance for all things, even that which was beneath them in way of strength and years, would he then be worthy to compete for the throne. But the worst was when his mother would come down, her golden hair tainted by the faded light of his prison. Her face, it was so full of pain and concern for his silenced and chained form that it almost hurt Loki to see her.

Almost.

But he was so willingly consumed with dark resentment and hate that Loki felt that not even the woman he was still willing to label as his mother would be kept in kind regard for very much longer. He hated everything now. He hated Thor, he hated Odin, he hated Asgard, he hated the very cold stone he was chained to.

And he planned to rule everything he hated, just to spite it all. He was alive, they could break him and try to sew up his power, but as long as he breathed, it would be inevitable that he would rule, one way or another, one world or another. They say when one sinks as low as he has, the only way to travel is upward, and that is what he intended to do, whether he had to claw his way back or slaughter thousands. Yet it was only one that stood in his way, one that could not be removed even by him, but needed to be confronted soon…

His mind deep in dark, bloodied thoughts, Loki almost missed the rattling of the heavy bolted door to his prison's lock opening. A white, blinding light caused him to shut his eyes in wincing pain, hearing two, heavy set figures step into the room. The door was bolted to a close soon after, the figures now standing in the dim light of Loki's personal hell.

Green eyes fevered over with hate glared at the accursed Allfather and his precious heir, their adopted pet sitting himself up to a more dignified position so as not to give their false pity any fuel. The chains that gripped his ankles and wrists clanked excruciatingly against rubbed raw skin, but the sewn lips of Loki did not twitch the slightest in pain for he would not allow it. He doubted the skin would stretch even if he wanted it to anyway.

"Son. I have come to a decision as to what punishment you shall endure to make up for your crimes against both Asgard and Midgard" Spoke Odin, his deep, lording voice filling the small stone space Loki had been locked away in for a tortuously stretched three months. Loki did not flinch, did not look away, only continued to glare loathingly at the man he once proudly called father.

"There has been much suffering, and much pain for all. It must end, and you must be the one to do it. You must give the Midgardians a chance to find it within themselves to forgive you, as you must with yourself" Hate, anger, and unfiltered fury rose up in Loki to give him the strength to stand up in the indignity of Odin's assumption that he needed something as trivial as forgiveness. At that movement, the imbecilic brute decided to step in.

"Brother, our father has been gracious. He has made it so that you will come to Midgard with me, and beside me, we shall aid the mortals to fortify their world, and repair the damage we both have done against it" Spoke Thor, kindly, softly, as if he was afraid that a single word of his would shatter his brother into further anger. His fears came true, for Loki's green eyes burned at the indignity of their words.

"You shall be sent to be among our Midgardian allies, your magic and strength restrained until you have come out of your madness, and allow us to care for you again…" Odin trailed off, taking something out of the folds of his cloak. Loki's mind raced, swift in hate as if it fueled his mind better than any nourishment.

Perhaps he was mad. Perchance Odin was right. It could be that the power of the Tesseract caused him to act so, or the grief of learning his true heritage, and thusly, fate. Then again, maybe it was years of empty promises of a chance to rule the place he once saw as his homeland. Maybe it was the discovery that he was the very thing horror tales were made of, or perhaps it was the unearthing of why he had always been shunned amongst gods for being nothing more than himself.

Yes, yes he was mad, insane, and they only had themselves to thank. For in his madness, he saw truth, raw truth that no one could be trusted, that true freedom and choice were nothing more than pitiful notions. And that only way to achieve one's desires was to take it, by force.

"These will restrain your powers, and cannot be removed by any means of strength" Announced Odin as he came forward, his single eye training itself into Loki's. The chained man did not look away, he did not step back, he did nothing save glare as Odin clapped a ringlet of silver on one wrist to mimic the same with the other. Though weakened from months in the dark with scraps to feast upon, Loki was not numb to the feeling of a working spell that crawled out of the bracelets placed on him, latching itself onto his own magic as if to secure it, immobilize it.

"You shall not be able to perform the simplest spell or trick. But I will allow you the power of your own words, and I trust that you shall use your talent for speech smithing to good and redemption" At this, the Allfather placed his trust in his eternal wisdom and his youngest, albeit adopted son, breaking away the chains that held him to allow him movement for the first time in three months.

The black thread that had kept his lips sealed shut for so long now gone by Odin's own magic, Loki lifted his bangled wrists to his gaze, before turning to look towards those before him. He spoke, voice hoarse, but every word as bitterly assured as he was.

"I have no need of your redemption, your saving. I know my purpose, and it is far more glorious than any of you fools will ever be able to realize…"

o0o

Couldn't these fools realize how close to starving she was? They moved at such an agonizingly slow pace that it was as if they did it just to spite her; purposely giving other customers their ordered food while she was teased by their steaming aromas. She'd been here for half an hour now, and she was just seconds away her launching herself at the waitress and holding her hostage at plastic fork point until they gave her what she wanted.

But alas, the young woman had to content herself with mindlessly flipping through the channels of the TV that was suspended in the back corner of the little diner. Nourishment seemed like a distant wish that her stomach loudly protested to be fulfilled. She only hoped that the TV's volume was drowning out the starved sound.

"…And in other news, it appears that the people of New York may have to wait even longer until all the roadways are repaired from the recent alien attack—"

Click.

"Listen, doll-face, I've been around the block many times, and by around, I mean—"

Click, click.

"This is it! Come with me, my brothers and sisters, as we march in faith! Come with open hearts and open wallets, as we need both and more—"

Many clicks.

"You can take that piece of shit you call a Chevrolet and stick it somewhere the sun don't shine—"

Click.

"Boring… boring… oh, wait a minute… No, that's boring too" Sarah droned as she finally gave up on trying to distract herself. She slid the remote away from her across the diner's bar, and leaned over to let her head rest of her forearms and prayed for someone, anyone, to come and take her order.

In the end, Sarah had no choice but to glare at the waitress that stood just on the other side of the counter, sending invisible beams of rage at the back of her head. Let her hair burn, let that stupid messy bun burn as well. May it all burn until—

No, stop it. Anger was bad. Even the smallest tidbit of mild irritation was considered deadly to, not only herself, but also everyone around her.

'Can I take your order, sweetie?" asked an incredibly bored voice that couldn't care less if the girl in front of it was on fire or dancing show tunes. Ridiculously enough, the waitress was chewing on a piece of pink gum loudly, wearing a pair of overly large cat eye glasses.

Hallelujah was the first word that sprang to Sarah's mind.

A happy euphoria washed over the young woman, the kind one only feels after finding their true love, or is asked that beautiful questions by a woman in an apron that has a nametag that says 'Hello, I'm Doreen'.

Sarah leaned back in her chair, posture overly relaxed "Yes, yes you may certainly take my order. In fact, it would be an honor for me if you took my order" Sarah spoke dryly, her expression flat, though there was a sparkling hunger in her blue eyes.

The waitress, however, didn't even blink at the young woman's wry tone, and just stood there, pen and paper in hand, teeth gnawing loudly on that damn piece of gum in her mouth.

Sarah sighed and went on "I'll have the Trucker's Breakfast, a glass of orange and a glass of apple juice, and possibly some cranberry juice if you got it, and the steak special number five. Some pancakes on the side, and what's your opinion on the soup of the d—never mind, I'll take it anyway" Sarah finished with something of a forced, polite smile on her lips.

Doreen's eyes went wide behind her glasses, only to then glare at the sardonic smile of the younger woman before her. Sarah only continued to grin and occasionally blink, oblivious to Doreen's scrutiny of figuring out whether she was serious or not. A moment or two passed before the woman and her apron shrugged; remembering that she didn't really care about much except for her five cats and the next episode of Real Housewives.

"Alright, but if your pockets have as many holes as I think they do, you'd better be willing to wash dishes to pay for all this, sweetheart"

The smile on Sarah's face went away as Doreen passed the tall order to the man clad in the hairnet through the kitchen delivery window. If you pockets have as many holes as I think they do? And just what did she mean by that comment—oh, yeah…

Looking down at herself, Sarah huffed, folding her arms over her tattered t-shirt, feeling mildly insulted. Could she help it of the only designer names she could afford were 'thrift shop on Main' and 'the dumpster behind Hot Topic'?

Well, what did matter in the end? She never really cared about what other people had to say about her fashion choices, unless they were willing to follow their critiques with sympathy in the form of new garments in a grocery bag. It was actually rather funny how often people would donate her clothes as she was slumped on a street corner, resting her overly abused feet. Charity started with holey hand-me-downs, she supposed.

That having been said, Sarah did take pride in her appearance. She was always clean for one thing; easily sneaking into the showers of the local Y.M.C.A's made sure of that. Her blonde hair might be a little tangled a choppy looking from years of self-administered haircuts, but there were certainly no rat's nests or forming dreadlocks appearing anytime soon. As of yet.

But, most important of all, was that her long, lovely leather coat of a sleek black finish was still in its prime, pristine and punkish condition.

Her favorite article of clothing, should she ever be forced to choose, would be this coat right here. It was her pride and joy; the way it always fell just loose of her shoulders whenever she sat down, and how it dragged behind her was something she wouldn't trade for the world. She adored the way it smelled of cigar smoke and baking cookies. How it reminded her of a simpler time where she didn't need to sleep under bridges or worry about what meal she would be able to eat next. A time of her life she had to end by being born as what she was…

Damn it. Remember; sadness and self-pity bad. In fact, any emotion equals bad. Every negative, and even positive emotion, was bad. Even mild annoyance she was feeling as her stomach rumbled loudly due to the long absence of food, was—

"Here's your food, sweetheart"

Oh thank all that is good and gold. Sarah's belly practically erupted in joy as she dove in as soon as the porcelain plate touched the surface of the table, ignoring Doreen's eye roll before she left to serve some of the other late night and early morning patrons.

In the back of Sarah's mind, she made a mental note to improve her table manners. She was twenty-two years old, after all; it just might be time to start showing a little decorum every now and then. But, honestly, when it came to this level of hunger, anyone would be reduced to eating like a five year old; table manners be damned.

Ah, a five year old and not a bloody moist towelette in sight. Oh well, she'd just have to settle for paper napkins. Oh, the joy.

In just a few mere minutes, the girl had reduced the mountain of food before her to only one half its original size. But already, her stomach was bulging in content stuffiness. Placing the silverware down, the young woman's blue eyes darted over to where Doreen was. Satisfied that the woman was still flirting with that bearded biker for a while, she started to pull some items out of her satchel.

Cracking her knuckles and stretching her fingers out the way a pianist would before playing his masterpiece, she overlooked the layout of Tupperware before her. And with skill that could only have come with having been done this many times before, Sarah packed away every last morsel, sealing it tightly and then placing the containers back into her satchel for future meals.

Seeing Doreen glance over her way, the girl quickly considered her options. Since she had absolutely no money to pay for the gracious feast, she could stay and be a good citizen of New York City and wash her dishes to make up for it.

Well, she could do that, but she really, really didn't feel like it. So, by the process of elimination, her only other option was to run, and run fast. Faster than Doreen at any rate, which Sarah was pretty certain she was capable of, seeing how she was already two blocks away from the diner with a huffing and puffing Doreen that had fell behind.

o0o

It was somewhere down Seventh Street that Sarah finally stopped running, the food she gobbled down already protesting about her not waiting an hour before sprinting.

Slowing herself down to a reasonable pace, Sarah took the time to admire the way the yellow streetlights made her trailing coat shine bright. Sarah smiled; she loved this damned piece of leather.

But then again, she hated it; this was a reminder of her past, and what she did to leave it all behind. Well, it wasn't so much what she did, rather more what she was. And what she was, was the worst kind of monster; the one that smiled on the outside and pretended to be human in order to keep on living day to day, minute by fucking minute.

A loud cracking sound jolted Sarah out of her thoughts, and as the street quickly grew dark. She sighed to herself.

"Ah, not again" she growled as the shattered glass from the streetlights rained down onto the pavement. She didn't bother to look over her shoulder to see if anyone may have noticed, for any normal person would have thought that it was just the electrical work short-circuiting above her. She continued on, ignoring the crunching sound of the glass under the soles of her heavy boots.

"And this is what people mean when they say you can't have nice things, Sarah. No self-control whatsoever" She chided to herself as she gripped the body of a street pole and halfheartedly swung around it, feeling a bit wound up from her forced jog.

Her mood shifted as she reached out for another pole, but left it as she caught something out of the corner of her eye "Still, it would be nice to have one nice thing every once in a while…"

She walked up closer to the front of a rather fancy looking display of the latest fashion to hit New York as she gazed at the incredibly soft looking sweater that hung loosely off of the manikin's shoulders. She sighed to herself once more, and allowed her mood to drop.

The glass of the large display window shattered as Sarah shook her head and continued on down the street, trying to forget how comfortable that sweater, or hell, anything besides what she was wearing, would look draped on her shoulders. Sarah wasn't opposed to taking what wasn't hers, but she figured why be more of a parasite to society than she already was by just existing?

"You know what I need," Sarah said to no one in particular as she kept walking down the deserted street "a job. Maybe in customer service. I've always been good with people when they don't get me angry, or make me laugh. Then… I'm not so good. Bad, actually. Very bad"

Sarah then began humming to herself as she turned to a corner down of an even darker street, completely at ease despite the pitch black of the roadway. She kept her tune on and kicked at a few pebbles here and there, watching as they disappeared over the edge of the gutter.

"But then, perhaps," Sarah went on, glancing up at the smog tarnished sky that denied her view of the stars "I should look for a job that needs someone bad like me"

She then shivered as the gloomy skies rattled with wind and began to unleash little tiny droplets of rain, though the warmth she had accumulated within the confines of her leather jackets shaded her form the fierce brunt of the cold. As she passed one last large store window, she spied the large gash in the otherwise pristine piece of leather; a fraying tear that began at her belly and ended at her hips. Sarah chuckled, though it was far from an amused sound.

"Someone very bad like me" Sighing one last time, the young woman pushed on, only to shake her head a few steps later.

"Damn, now I have that song stuck in my head. George Thorogood, you catchy songster, you" Sarah shrugged, beginning to move her feet about in a sort of lazy dance as she went on her lonesome way.

"On the way I was born… the nurses all gathered 'round… And they gazed in wide wonder… at the joy they had found…"

~o0o~

The LaLaBlue Post:

Done. Chapter one done. Yippy ! I had an Avengers fic before this one, but I kept getting stumped for ideas past the tenth chapter. But for this one, I see great potential. I hope you all do too, and give this fic, and me essentially, a chance!

Anyhoo, this story is rated M for a hell of a lot of swearing, sarcasm (duh), obscure references, angsty drama, spicy lemon in later chapters (te-he), and quite a bit of gore and violence. If none of these things are your cup of tea, I understand, I prefer coffee myself (that's a lie. I love tea, especially ice chai, nectar of the gods, I swear). I plan on this fic reaching something like over fifty chapters, so if you're not wanting to be in for the long haul, better find something else now, cause I want to take my sweet time when it comes to Loki (But then again, who doesn't? Hehe, naughty thoughts…eh, sorry).

Well, TTFN kiddies, catch you all in the next chapter hopefully if this story has your interest!


	2. Sandwiches and Runaways

Chapter 2; Sandwiches and Runaways: 

Warning; Rated M for swearing, violence, lemony things, lots of cool psychic happenings and awesome superheroes. You have been warned…

Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Avengers' or any of its characters, I am only using them to fulfill my own disillusioned dreams and fan-girl wishes. : P

Thank you all so much for your support so far! I know how hard it is for the first chapter of a story to get attention, and I am grateful that I have received even this much! Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy this second installment of EBTS!

~o0o~

_Two Months Later_

The time was o'thirteen hundred. The place, a top secret research facility whose exact location you would have to be eliminated if you ever overheard. Hint, it was in America, and in some sort of desperately dry desert, much to the staff's displeasure. And in said top secret facility, an important meeting was about to be held. A meeting of the mightiest heroes of Earth.

The Avengers.

"Okay, who ordered the ham and cheese?" Called out Dr. Banner, rummaging through the take out box that some random agent had just delivered to the debriefing room.

"That would be me" Spoke up Clint, leaning back in his chair that was placed in the corner of the room. Natasha grabbed the sandwich Dr. Banner was holding to toss it to her friend the Hawk as she came over to sit in the chair next to him, letting out a tired sigh as her sore muscles protested against her still moving.

"Great," Went on Bruce, once more digging into the box of fresh food "and whose is the number four?"

"The famous heartburn number four? That has to be the Captain. He's the only glutton for punishment around here" Answered Tony from his place at the circular table, legs crossed and fingers drumming in pent up boredom. He hated meetings, he only came for the free food. And because Pepper was getting rather snippy these days, maybe because she was throwing up all hours of the morning. She really needed to cut down on the hangovers, they were starting to irritate him.

"I can't argue with that I guess. I do hang around you after all" Tossed back Steven as he went forward to grab his sandwich, making Stark smirk at his slow acclimation to this century's lingo.

"Only because you're attracted to my winning personality and billions of dollars" Immediately retorted Tony as he propped his feet up on the table as he caught the hoagie Bruce tossed to him "By the way, did you get the birthday present I sent you?"

Steven only shook his head frustratedly as he went about unwrapping his lunch. Banner, while grabbing his own, glanced over at Tony.

"Yeah, about that. Are you just giving away Porsches as a hobby now, and when do I get mine?" Tony chuckled, ignoring the fact that his mouth was full of food.

"You want one? I just figured that the green brawl beast would just use it as a skateboard or something"

"Doesn't mean I can't have one" Muttered Bruce in protest as he sat down next to Steven, who was already half way done with his meal and eager to get the actual meeting underway.

"I'll put you on my nice list then" Said Tony with a grin, making his fellow scientist laugh. Before Clint could speak up to see if he was on that list, the doors opened up with a swoosh, and in stepped a huge, bulking figure whose footsteps thundered.

"Ah, the called in feast has arrived!" Boomed Thor hungrily as he spied the box on the table, setting his bloodied hammer down next to it.

"Mmh, these sandwiches smell glorious. Is it from the same shopkeeper we got those 'Subways' from?"

"How was Mediterranean Thor?" Asked Steven as he ignored the Asgardian's question, looking over at the bit of guts on the hammer in slight disgust. The immortal smiled as he started to rip into his preordered meal.

"The sea and islands were enchanting on the few chances I got to see them while I battled the aquatic creature that had landed there. Though I would have liked a bit of warning about what bikinis were. I fear I did stare some when I first saw a couple of maidens wearing them…" Thor trailed off embarrassingly, concerned that his fellows had such loosely dressed women, while at the same time somewhat jealous. Tony smirked at his discomfort.

"Perks of living here on…what the hell you call Earth? Midgard?" Tony shook his head and moved on before Thor had time to answer him "I'll send Jane a red string one when I can for you, how's that?"

Before Thor had time to debate whether or not he wanted his friend to do such a thing for him, the doors opened once more, this time for a man clad in black leather. Tony's smirk turned into a controlled grimace as he put his feet back on the floor.

"Look alive people, Popeye is here!"

Fury's one eye glared at the billionaire before sneaking a hand into the box, taking the last of the sandwiches.

"Very funny Stark. Now cut the quips and we'll hopefully be out of here before midnight" He announced as he went to seat himself at what could be considered the head of the table despite it being round.

"Thor, how did the mission go?" The cut and dry director asked of the Asgardian. Thor swallowed almost all of his BLT before answering.

"Successful! The beast was slain and your soldiers are dealing with its remains now" Fury nodded, unwrapping his own sandwich as he went on.

"Good. Natasha, Clint?"

"We both need a shower to wash the pig's blood off, but we're done" Answered Natasha as she stole a bite of Clint's meal before leaning back in her chair, counting the seconds until she could get said shower.

"Stark and Banner, how is your research on the Tesseract data going?"

"Well it's, uh, going" Answered Bruce, shrugging a little. Fury looked up at him, brows lifting.

"Meaning?"

"We have nothing new to report whatsoever" Tony spoke out candidly before Banner could reply again. Looking between the pair of scientists, Fury almost, just almost, chuckled.

"I'm shocked. Really, I am" He muttered before going into his own meal, putting the meeting on pause. All that could be heard for a while was the munching of sandwiches and the crumpling of wrappers. But of course, this top secret facility wasn't known for its restful and peaceful atmosphere.

Soon enough, the door to the meeting room opened again, and in walked three people wearing tailored suits and dark sunglasses. The Avengers looked up, and Tony smirked out somewhat friendlily to the one familiar face of the three.

"Phil! How's the stab wound?"

"Good actually" Answered the brown haired agent with a polite grin as he stopped in the middle of the room "Got yoga moves and meds to help and everything"

Tony nodded while Thor stood up, walking over to respectfully clasp Phil's shoulder as he always did when he saw him. And like he did every time he saw him, Thor began to say sorry.

"I cannot apologize enough for that error of mine, Son of Coul" Phil only shrugged, his polite smile growing as he chuckled.

"It's fine. At least I get to say I shot and got stabbed by a god and lived. Makes the ladies go wild"

"I wouldn't go bragging about it too much. Loki's a puny god after all" Inputted Bruce now that he was finished with his meal. This arose a few chuckles from the other Avengers, but that quickly died down at the sight of the tight expression on Thor's face. His black, murderous sheep of a brother was still as sensitive subject. More so now that said marauding immortal was back on Earth, pretending to be serving his father's sentence of helping out the Midgards, contained in the bowls of this facility. For now.

Fury took it upon himself to move the conversation on, looking past Phil to glance over the agents behind him.

"About time you got here Coulson, Gunner, and…Emma Striker was it?"

Out of the three SHIELD agents, the young woman contrasted her sterner partners. She had light blonde hair and welcoming eyes, and a smile that showed she had yet to be broken by the serious tedium that permeated this place.

"It's actually Emily sir. My name hasn't changed since you talked to me yesterday" She answered, her tone paradoxically respectful and yet teasing. Fury decided to ignore the latter as he stood himself up.

"I have an assignment for you three"

"Does that mean we can go?" Perked up Steven, hoping that the answer was yes so he could get a nap before he was shipped off to Alaska for his latest mission. Fury disappointed him by shaking his head.

"No. Their assignment is something I want you all to know about" This perked up Tony's interest, and he leaned forward against the table, his hands clasping themselves together.

"You're going to trust us to know about your little minions' missions? Is that tuna salad not agreeing with you or something?"

Before Fury or Steven could roll their eyes in frustration over Tony's constant attitude, Thor spoke up, curious.

"What does their mission pertain to?"

Fury glanced at the Asgardian for a moment as if debating one last final matter. He came to a decision quickly though, and almost magically pulled a manila folder from the folds of his leather jacket.

"Not what. Who" He gently pitched the file towards Tony, and the billionaire wasted no time in opening it. He stood himself up to start walking about the room slowly as his eyes scanned documents, pausing as he came to a pair of blue eyes staring up at him.

"Oh, she's cute" Was his synopsis of the young woman in the picture that was inside the folder "Don't you think so Gun?" Tony asked the third agent, knowing that with the combined buzz cut and stone faced expression he was sure to get an amusing answer.

"I'm not here to comment on the target's appearance sir" Tony shrugged at the brawny man's reply as Steven suddenly became concerned as he glanced over his friend's shoulder, looking down at the photo.

"Target? Don't tell me that they're going to-"

"No" Fury spoke before Steven could voice his fears "They're just going to bring her here"

"Is this young maiden in some sort of danger?" Thor asked, not really certain of what was going on, but becoming more and more curious as Tony tossed the file over to him.

"Somewhat. She's as much as a danger to herself as she is to others. Which is why she is being brought here. I will be needing to speak to you and your…brother, about her later though" Answered Fury, his tone heavily hinting that this was as far as he was willing to go into this new mission for now. The Asgardian looked down at the photograph before him, brows furrowing. The young maiden looked harmless enough, with her ashen locks and crooked smile. Tony seemed to be of the same mind as his immortal friend as he once more looked over the picture, frowning a little.

"What did this cutie ever do to get SHIELD's attention?"

"You'll find out what she is for yourself soon enough" Was the final answer on the matter the Avengers got as Fury, along with Phil, Gunner, and Emily, left through the doors, turning down the echoing, empty hall way of the most secretive place on Earth.

o0o

Sarah was a bum. Plain and simple.

She bummed off of other who worked hard for a living. Waitresses, shop keepers, cashiers. Even paper boys weren't safe. Anyone who was fool enough to trust her for the split second it took for her to get what she wanted and then split.

But she was a special kind of bum. She was a bum that had developed the best possible pick pocketing technique. The kind of technique that, when used, left her victims with absolutely no idea who took from them.

Was it quick fingers, a keen mind or an adorable, cutesy face that people couldn't help but trust that aided her pull the wool over everyone's eyes while she robbed them blind?

No. See, even as a pickpocket, she was a lazy bum. She just took what wasn't hers with her problem, as she liked to call it. Simple as that.

Simple, but required a hell of a lot of concentrating. Smashing things and breaking stuff was easy, sometimes all she needed to do was sigh or scream in order for that to happen. But lifting items without intent to throw or shatter them, especially small things, required her full attention.

But unfortunately, her attention was being fought for by her starving stomach which was whining to be fed, and the conversation the group of men she was robbing while ten yards away were having. Apparently, they were in some kind of trouble with their boss, and if they didn't get the next shipment of whatever something highly illegal in soon, it would be their heads.

Honestly, you couldn't throw a stick without having a criminal swear at you for hitting them in this big apple of a town. Not that Sarah should be one to criticize as she began to count the cash she had just swiped from the still chatting men. But if she was taking from fellow lawbreakers, it made her feel less guilty about looting their pockets for cash. Less, but not by much.

But, less was sometimes more, wasn't it? Or, agrh, Sarah was getting herself all confused. She wasn't much of a thinker, more of a just do what it takes to survive with as minimum damage to herself and others sort of person. She didn't need to cause more mutilation to the world than she had by just existing by getting herself all worked up by thoughts and emotions. It was just day to day living for her. Well, if she could call what she was doing living. Ah-ah, what she just say about thinking? Besides, she needed to focus on adding up the money she had just 'earned'.

"Hey, who's there?"

Sarah stopped her counting, brows furrowing down in confusion. She was pretty sure the men were still talking about illegal stuff like gun shipments, not playing hide and seek. About to shrug it off, Sarah heard sirens start.

Immediately, her adrenaline spiked up as she scrambled to her feet.

"Alright, put your hands in the air!" Shouted what could only be a cop. Glancing around the corner, Sarah witnessed a flood of street garbed officers swarm the gang of men, guns drawn and barking orders. She let out a relieved chuckle as her panic waned quickly away, glad that for once, justice was being served to the right people.

She just had to jinx herself, didn't she? Well, it was one of the few things she was consistently good at.

"You there! Girl! Get over here, nice and slow!" Shouted a cop that caught her peeking around the corner. Whether they thought she was a part of the operation they just busted or they needed a witness, Sarah didn't care. She ran.

The two cops that followed her were fast, but Sarah was faster. If there was one thing she had always been good at, besides jinxing herself of course, it was running away. She just had a lot of experience with it.

They were tenacious, she would give them that. Chasing her down the back alleys that she had lived in for years, yet still managed to get lost in, with a persistency that was becoming more and more annoying with each minute they continued after her. She needed to lose them before her annoyance expressed itself. Calming herself long enough to concentrate on what she wanted to do, she let her problem take hold.

She watched the pair of cops ran past her hiding spot on the high fire escape she had landed on, chuckling dryly as they turned a corner they supposed she disappeared down. She was about to follow up that chuckle with a breath of relief, when a loud and sudden barking came up right behind her.

"Ahh!" Sarah yelped, unable to stop her panicking before the apartment window behind her cracked some in her fluster. Turning, her blue eyes glared at the fiercely barking dog that lived in the apartment whose fire escape she was perched on.

"Fuck mutt, you nearly gave me a heart attack! And trust me when I say, that would have been bad news for _you_" Sarah snarled back, counting away her annoyance as best she could. Just then, another dog several windows down poked its head out, and showed off its white teeth to her as it joined in the din. Sarah nearly let out a growl as she tried to calm down.

"And your little friend too" She muttered as she glanced back down at the street to make sure the cops weren't coming to investigate the level of noise.

Dogs made her nervous, always barking at her and growling. They made her nervous because she made them nervous. Their noses and animalistic senses alerted them that she wasn't exactly a normal human, that something was desperately wrong with her, and they reacted as dogs always did when in danger of the unknown. That's why Sarah was a cat person. Cats didn't give a flying fuck that she was a freak, only if she had food on her. She liked that sort of brutal honesty. If only people were like that.

Well, not that it mattered what people were like these days for her anyway. She avoided them at all costs. It was just too risky for her to hang about for longer than a couple of hours with anyone. That was as long as she could control herself, her problem, and her emotions, and even then she still messed up. A lot. She was good at that too.

Of course, living in New York wasn't the ideal place for someone who wanted a lot of alone time to be. But she couldn't live anywhere else, this place was her roots. Her noisy, loud, filthy sidewalk roots. Speaking of noisy.

Getting frustrated that the mutt was still yapping its head off behind her, Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm leaving. I hope you and your pal get fleas"

With that, she launched herself down form the escape ladder, her problem kicking in at the last minute to make sure she landed with a soft touch rather than an ankle twisting crash. Knowing that the coast was clear, Sarah began to strut out of the alley way, making towards the closest sidewalk.

With a greediness all starving stomachs had, Sarah took out the wad of cash she had just 'earned' and began to recount. She never took whole wallets, just the cash bit of them. Credit cards and driver's licenses were useless for immediate use, for her at any rate. And besides, she wasn't that big of a parasite to society to make people go back to their local DMV to renew their licenses. Now that was just inhumanly cruel.

"Whoa, this is over two hundred dollars" She whistled out once done counting. She couldn't help herself become a bit excited as she began a lazy, celebratory shuffle "I'll sleeping on a mattress tonight, one with clean sheet and pillows on it. My back won't have anything to complain about tomorrow, that's for sure!"

Walking out into the afternoon New York sun, Sarah tried to blend in with the teaming of life that crowded the sidewalk. As naturally happy as she was that she had some cash to burn, Sarah had to make sure that her breathing remained relaxed and focused. Considering that with just a chuckle or grimace she could rain down glass, crowds made her a tad bit nervous, more so than dogs even. Her problem tended to make people look at her weird. And don't get her started on the screaming. So annoying, so shrill.

Spotting a neon sign flashing above her, Sarah let loose a crooked, albeit small, grin.

"They advertise the best hamburgers in town, but how about I put them to the test, hm?" She muttered to herself as she opened the door the sign pointed to, hearing a chiming bell announce her entry. The place seemed nice, had a fifties retro diner theme going on. And while Sarah was more of a fan of the simple hotdog stand out on the sidewalk, she was feeling a bit classy today what with the cash she had, and felt like eating while sitting down at a table. Just to shake things up for once.

Sarah had just barely sat herself down in one of the many plush booths, when an unfortunate woman trapped in an ugly green waitress uniform came up to her table.

"Can I help you?"

Sighing as she reveled in the many tasty answers she had to that question, Sarah glanced up at the older woman with her forced grin.

"Lady, I believe you are the only one in the world who can help me. I need a cheeseburger with a side of fries and a strawberry milkshake stat" The woman must have thought Sarah was kidding about her need for grease and nourishment, because she wrote down the order chuckling.

"You got it sweetie" She said before she left, Sarah's eyebrows furrowing in confusion and mild annoyance as she slumped against the seat with a huff.

"Again with the sweet. Why do waitresses always call me sweetie or sweetheart? How do they know they know what I taste like?" She grumbled. Before she could entertain herself with the small dessert menu next to the salt and pepper shaker, someone unexpectedly gave an answer to her rhetorical questions.

"Maybe you just have a sweet face"

Sarah turned to see three people in matching suits and dark sunglasses line themselves up next to her table. Their gazes, for all she knew, were trained on her, and it seemed the blonde woman amongst them was the one who spoke, as she was smiling. Before Sarah could open her mouth to tell them to go away, the odd trio surprised her by sitting down across from her in the booth.

"Don't you think so Gun? Come on, tell me that is not a face you would love to take home to meet your mother?" Asked the woman, teasing the taller and much scarier looking of her two companions. The man, Gun apparently, remained standing and sighed.

"Again, we're not here to appraise the her looks" He answered, his stony face barely moving as if it was natural for it to be constantly frozen in seriousness.

"I agree with Gun on this" Piped up Sarah, tone dead with irritation as she glanced from one pair of sunglasses to the next, becoming nervous as she was beginning to suspect something particularly fishy was going on here. And she hated sea food. "In fact, you're not supposed to be here at all. See, this is my booth, I claimed it. So scoot" She went on, motioning with her thumb the direction they would find the nearest exist.

This only made the woman across from her chuckle, and she lifted up her glasses to reveal a pair of blue eyes that shined with a special kind of mirth.

"Oh, feisty. Just like the file said"

"Please, try to keep your comments to yourself Emily" Spoke the man sitting next to her sternly, though Sarah could tell he was not as uptight as the Gun man. He removed his own pair of sunglasses, and graced Sarah with a grin that was similar to her own forced polite one.

"Hello Miss Evans, I am Agent Phil Coulson from the organization known as SHIELD. Might I have a word?"

Sarah's booted feet rocked up and down in her not so subtle attempt to remain calm. She really, really hated pushy people, and these guys were one step away from poking her with sticks in her own mind. Besides that, they were defiantly officials of the government or something, and that usually meant that trouble was coming soon for a lawbreaker like her. Plus, and this was the glaringly obvious here, the fact that they knew her full name. Her fishy feeling was quickly turning into a flight or fight response, one she would be acting on soon by the looks of things.

"Anthropomorphic" She answered with a glare "All yours big guy, and now so is this booth" With that, Sarah made to stand herself up to take the flight option, but the so named Gun, which apparently was in honor of his muscular arms, grabbed the front of her precious jacket and shoved her back into her seat.

"Hey! Hands off the leather!" She shouted, hoping she was loud enough to grab some Good Samaritan's attention. When the only response her call for help turned out to be just a few turned heads, the Phil man leaned forward, still smiling.

"Sorry Miss Evans, but we really need to speak to you"

At the serious tone he took, Sarah's nervousness escalated into panic. Immediately, some of the tableware before her began to twitch, as if trying to come to life. It took quite a bit of her will power to keep the sharp knives from being thrown up into the ceiling, more so even to keep her breathing steady.

"And we can do it here in this restaurant while you eat, or we can do it back at the base, where you will be handcuffed to a chair. Which do you prefer?"

The napkin wrapped silverware shook harder, and even though the strangers seemed surprised by this, they are not shocked, which in turn shocked Sarah. Most people got at least edgy when they saw this, but these people looked, _interested_. She needed to get out of here before she did more than just make the forks dance though. She didn't become good at running just for kicks; she had a great deal to run away from.

"The handcuffs. I'm feeling especially kinky today" She bit out as she subtly glanced around, looking for some way to escape. Phil shook his head and leaned closer, beginning to whisper as Sarah found she couldn't help but listen.

"This is no time for jokes Miss Evans. It's time to answer for all that you have done"

And just like that, everything that had been itching on the table stilled, Sarah's emotions running deeper than panic. She was becoming afraid. And that was never, ever, a good thing.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" Sarah answered, whispering back as she refused to meet any of the strangers' eyes. Please, just please go away, she begged silently. Go away, or at the very least, let her run away, please let her run away and not look back. And yet, despite her pleas, Phil managed to lean in even closer, causing Sarah to cringe.

"Yes you do Miss Evans. How could you of all people forget what happened the twentieth of February, 2005?"

A fast blur of flying silverware, sugar packets, and shakers were thrown at the trio of suits before another syllable was uttered by Phil. Covering their faces in their panic as the window next to them shattered, they failed to catch the terrified girl as she jumped out the gaping hole of glass.

And Sarah then did what she had always done best. She ran, faster than she had in a long time as she fought the urge to break everything around her.

~o0o~

The LaLaBlue Post:

Oh, drama! Just what does that date mean to Sarah, and why does Fury want her to be brought to SHIELD? Once again, thank you for reaching even this far! Please don't be afraid to comment or critique!


	3. Chases

Chapter 3; Chases:

Warning; Rated M for swearing, violence, lemony things, lots of cool psychic happenings and awesome superheroes. You have been warned…

Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Avengers' or any of its characters, I am only using them to fulfill my own disillusioned dreams and fan-girl wishes. : P

Hey, I am going to use song lyrics at the beginning of my chapters from now on, stuff that fits the mood/what the characters are feeling, yadda yadda like that. The songs themselves are suggestions if you're looking for a little jam to read by, but the lyrics are the grit I'm getting at.

Also, sorry for taking so long to update, and for a very, very, very long chapter. I'll try in the future to keep them under 5,000 words, so, uh, sorry again. Hope you'll have the wherewithal to read and enjoy it and don't think it's too much to take in!

~o0o~

_"I just wanna run, hide it away. Run because they're chasing me down. I just wanna run, throw it away. Run before they're finding me out. I just wanna run" ~ _**_'I Just Wanna Run' by The Downtown Fiction_**

Alone he sat, bored and frustrated, a book in front of him as his eyes darted back in forth in pretense that he was actually reading. The book probably was enjoyable enough, even for a Midgardian creation, but really, Loki's mind was elsewhere.

Such as the current conundrum that his powers were still restrained and he was stuck on a world that's almost every inhabitant wanted him dead, or worse. Loki shared their sentiments likewise, and more than anything wanted to repay the organization that called itself SHIELD for their, _hospitality_ towards him since Thor had ushered him here under orders of the Allfather.

That word seemed to be tainted somehow when Loki paired it with the company of humans his mock brother had aligned himself with. For the past degrading two months, Loki had been trapped here, trading the dank prison in Asgard for a well-lit and somewhat dryer one here on Midgard.

Essentially, prisons at their core were the same. But at least here, he did get to leave the confines of his barred room once in a while, accompanied by a swarm of armored agents as he was escorted to various interview rooms. Almost every other day, Fury, the Widow, or some nameless insignificant would call him out for the purpose of boring him with their questions. Well, truthfully, it was at least interesting to watch and learn about their interrogation methods and how they tried to writhe their way into his subconscious to derive information from him. It was truly entertaining, though he'd never admit this aloud.

What entertained Loki was how quickly his brilliant mind could respond to their tactics and immediately work up a defense, while during the entire interrogation he could lead them on with falseness in his statements and composure, enjoying their ire for being led around by their prisoner.

For as amusing as that could sometimes be, what little enjoyment could be found in this place was ruined by the presence of the ones that despoiled Loki's plots in the first place. The Avengers. Even as seemingly defeated as he was, even under such constant watch of the humans who took every precaution they were capable of, those heroes were still not satisfied with his humiliation. They took every opportunity to reveal in their one victory against him, acting like foolish children who had won a game against him; it vexed Loki greatly. It was one thing to have his enemies mocking him as enemies oft do, but these so called Avengers couldn't even do that with dignity.

The true insult was that they seemed to have forgotten that it was he that had broken them. Loki had exposed the falsely titled heroes of earth, and in a frantic attempt to cover themselves, they forged an alliance to ignore the truths he offered them and this world for complacency. And in desperation to continue to hold on to their façade of freedom and true loyalty, they kept up their rally against Loki, making him their despised martyr. They were throwing back the truth he gave them, clinging to their old beliefs as if that would dispel what they did not want to hear. This was all nearly enough to make Loki grind his teeth.

And yet, even with all this ire in him and his eagerness for requite, everything was becoming so uneventfully routine. The Midgardians managed to surprise Loki for a little while by having him sit in these odd machines meant to make maps of his mind or some such, and ask about the origins of his powers. Yet by the time they got around to asking him why he of the Asgardians were of the few to master what they distastefully called magic here, Loki was once more tenaciously bored.

That being said, suffering from boredom and irritation was not the same as being unproductive. Everything had a price, and for what Loki was seeking now, that price was patience.

Loki had kept faith in his own powers, his so called madness, throughout his imprisonment on Asgard, and now that he obtained some limited freedom here on Midgard, that faith in himself would come to bear fruit. Though the Allfather was clever with his little inventions, Loki's conjurings and strength would find a way back to him. They always did; he just had a talent when it came to escaping what was thought to be impenetrable. It was only now just a question of finding the proper tools to complete the scheme he had already fabricated.

And in that, there laid the problem. Loki was naturally duplicitous, but without his Asgardian abilities and the damned SHIED watching his every move, he was greatly limited. With a constant escort on the few chances he was able to walk about and his meals brought to him, he had no means of exploring his options further with research or investigation. He was cut off, with plans to reach his ends, but no means as of yet. And until he found the perfect cover to obtain said means under the ignorant, but albeit watchful eyes of his enemies here on Midgard, he was confined.

Loki did have some sources in which to draw from. A few agents that, though not ingenious enough to retrieve in secret all he needed, were helpful enough for things like books and articles that narrowed down his search. As much as Fury was proud of his little army, he would be disgraced to know just how readily the few Loki had picked out were turned by his sweetly used words. Midgardians truly were an unreliable breed, unless you knew how to handle them. That said, there were many limits to what they could do for Loki, and he had always much preferred handling all his dealings personally, especially when this exceedingly delicate. If only he could find a way to access the information he needed himself, without the pressure of prying eyes.

As they always seemed to, schemes crept about in Loki's mind as to how he could go about without getting caught, he nearly dropping the comparatively dull book to the floor of his living quarters here in the latest base of operation for so called SHIELD. Loki knew that the most painful way to cut to someone's soft, raw core was to only present them with truth, and smirk when they ran back into the sweet lies they had before, in which he was truly master of. And that's what he would do to the Avengers, to this world. The Midgardians would not have their false comfort for much longer, and in that moment when their 'freedom' was proven to have never existed once and for all, he would be there to see that they paid for each and every little remark or chide before guiding them back to peace through submission.

Until such time, Loki would bite his tongue and bide his time.

Loki's thoughts were interrupted by the creak of his barely used door opening up, and he looked over in time to see Thor and several agents step inside. Loki did not put up a pretense of innocence to hide what he was thinking, instead purposely placing the book he nearly dropped back before him, concentrating on the pages rather than the approaching steps of the heavy set Asgardian.

"Brother, you are being summoned to meet with the Avengers" Approached Thor in that ever arrogant and familiar way of his.

Oh, how thrilling growled Loki internally, though his expression was unreadable as he continued to pretend to read the book that was in front of him. If there was one saving grace of this whole arrangement, it was that Loki rarely had to see the Asgardian who pretended to be his brother, SHIELD keeping him busy with their dull chores. But even these rare visits were enough to keep Loki annoyed for eternity. At least Thor had finally learned not to act with sympathetic affection around him anymore, his trust betrayed too many times now. About time really.

"They have no more questions for you on the Tesseract, and are actually looking for your aid" Continued Thor, though Loki made no sign that he was listening or even aware of his presence. Thor chose to ignore this, and took a step closer.

"Fury has decided to give you a mission. It seems your sentence to aid the Midgardians truly begins"

This finally perked Loki's interest, and his green eyes were torn away from the pages. A mission? Fury would be so foolish as to think that he would actually preform some task for him? Such disgusting audacity coming from a man who willing admitted he was desperate for aid to seek such broken creatures when confronted by an unknown and mightier power. Not that Loki would have a choice in being able to decline or accept; his living conditions were tied to his willingness to cooperate. And in order to avoid being put under the constant scrutiny of the Allfather, Loki would indeed cooperate as he had so far, if just by the scantest definition of the word.

And yet for all that, this mission might imply leaving the confinements of his prison, even if just for a day or so. And that would give Loki a chance to gather the information he needed, and possibly even escape his boredom. Either way, it was a welcomed, if not wholly appreciated, change. He would, for lack of a better phrase, gladly accept this so called mission.

"I shall strive to please" Loki answered with what could have been a smile if it wasn't for the sneer that etched it crooked. Thor's stoic expression did not show any signs of being effected by Loki's answer, but he nodded.

"You had better. This mission is…delicate apparently" Was his final words before the crowd of agents aligned themselves besides Loki as he stood up. As a formation, they marched through the door and into a cavern of hallways and passages. Since he had destroyed their main base of operations during his arrival on Midgard, and eventually the Helicarrier, SHIELD for the past few months had to make due with one of their lesser equipped bases. This led to overcrowding in the corridors and a great many out and about agents to view Loki's transfer. It would have amused him, their gaping or scowling faces, but now, he was intent in the book he brought with him in an attempt to ignore Thor's watchful and mistrustful glare. It was like he expected him to turn around and stab him in the back any moment now.

His 'brother' had grown wiser indeed.

"You shall behave, and you shall do as you are asked, less you want to be taken back to Asgard to face father for not committing to your sentence" Spoke up Thor as they turned a corner, Loki keeping track of the passages he forced himself to become familiar with for his purposes. Here, there, Hel. It was all beginning to blur into one to Loki. But here didn't have an Allfather. Only his ignorant son. Here would be easier to escape from and to contact Thanos, seeing as how this world was his next target after all…

"And you shall treat the maiden kindly. She is not going to be in the best of moods when the sleeping potion's effect wears off" Were the final words Thor had to say as they turned down yet another corner.

For a moment, Loki was confused, if only mildly so. But that confusion turned into curiosity as he found himself and Thor stopping before a pair of doors he'd never seen before. The doors opened on their own, revealing what had to be the meeting room of the Avengers. As much as he wished to send out his most charming, hateful glare to the beings whose guts he dreamed of ripping, Loki's gaze ended up on an unfamiliar figure turned away from him.

A head of light, ashen colored hair then glanced back at him as much as the chair allowed its owner to. Her expression was the epitome of annoyance and frustration, her frozen blue eyes glaring at him accusingly as if everything wrong with the world was his fault alone.

Internally, Loki groaned.

o0o

_Forty-seven hours earlier, back in New York…_

Two thirty-five.

Sarah folded her arms.

Two thirty-six.

Sarah slumped down further into the large bench corner she had claimed for herself.

Two thirty-seven.

Sarah's left foot rocked up and down in a frantic rhythm.

Two thirty-no. Screw it.

Letting her head fall back until it hit the bench with a rather dull sounding thud, Sarah groaned. Time was waiting in the wings, flexing like a whore and whatever else David Bowie sang about right in front of her. It was incredibly annoying. She wasn't really the patient type, and needed to be constantly entertained or else her dysfunctional attention wandered off. Normally in this sort of situation, she would have pulled out one of her romance novels to keep it in line. Admittedly, she knew it was a shamefully addiction, but she just couldn't help herself.

But this time, her distress was too deep for even her guilty pleasure to distract her. In fact, it was all she could do to keep herself calm and collected. And while that was important for her purposes, it was also incredibly boring. And that made Sarah fidgety, almost like she was allergic to boredom. But as wandering as her thoughts wanted to be, she narrowed her thoughts that the shuttle bus she was waiting for was to come at three on the dot, that her paid for ticket to Chicago was in her left pocket, and that she had enough money left over for some snacks.

The human mind however, is always attracted to the forbidden. And the forbidden for Sarah right now was three pairs of sunglasses that went around in suits. Those three said they wanted to talk, yet their actions back then pointed to anything but a pleasant chat, especially when they dared to bring up _that _date.

The instant that Phil Coulson guy uttered that, Sarah didn't want to hear anything else. Guess that's why she made the spur of the moment decision to jump out the window she had just shattered in her panic. Yeah, that wise choice came back to bite her when she was bandaging up numerous cuts and scrapes later that evening. She might be able to smash and break things with her mind, but that didn't mean her body was immune to being hit with the shards or blunt objects she tossed up. The real kicker about it was as klutzy as she was, she was creeped out by blood. Just the sight of liquid red made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as queasy feeling would chop her guts.

Thankfully after her escape though, Sarah was relieved to quickly discover that those three weirdoes didn't bother following after her. In fact, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of those three since then, almost as if they had never existed in the first place. That creeped her out far more than the many scraps on her arms; the last thing she needed to be was crazy. For a while though, she allowed herself to think that what happened at the restaurant was just guilt embodying itself physically to haunt her for all she had done, like with Scrooge and Marley or whatever. It was just another panicked made theory among the thousands she had considered, but Sarah quickly decided that one was nonsense. Not only because she disliked the idea of transcendence, but if she was going to be haunted, it would be by someone like Patrick Swayze.

As the night went on though, Sarah slowly came off of her high horse of panic and instead of coming up of more delusional explanations for what happened, she just dismissed it entirely. It might seem odd to others, but sometimes pretending certain things never happened or would happen was the only way to keep functioning. But then again, Sarah was pretty sure she wasn't the only one who did this. Procrastination is a worldwide hobby after all. Ignoring did go well enough for Sarah for a while, she even stopping from her wandering about to settle in one of her favorite abandoned warehouses to catch some Zs. It was safe to say though, the instant she laid her head down, she didn't catch anything except a couple of bags under her eyes, unable to help her thoughts wandering, as thoughts were oft to do.

They, SHIELD, or whatever, knew about her. And it was one thing that they knew her name, but it was another for them to talk about the year 2005. That meant that they…knew about her little problem. They had to in order to think that date held any meaning for her. How they found out about that was a complete and disturbing mystery to Sarah, one that she had no intention of solving if she couldn't help it. So long as they never caught her, she would never have to know just who told them that, and what they planned to do with that information. It was beyond disturbing though, how they knew. Secrets are not intended for absolute strangers to know about, nor are they supposed to be acknowledged by those who want to keep them a secret, so, bad on Sarah's part.

Still, none of this helped her think of ways those three agents could possibly know that date. She had exhausted every possible explanation throughout the night and the several hours here at the station despite trying her best to avoid the subject, but nothing was coming to mind. But then again, Sarah hadn't considered— no. That woman wouldn't be dragged into any of this, even if to just get back at her. She hated Sarah too much for even that, to even acknowledge her existence.

Bloody hell, this whole shebang was messed up. Shaking her head, Sarah forced her mind clear, humming a little tune to help the process. Her knee bounced up and down as the rest of her continued to jitter, but thankfully attracted no attention in the bus terminal, and more thankful still, was able to keep a cap on her problem. Maybe it was because of the lack of sleep, food, or maybe because she was too pent up and panicked for it to even take a hold anymore. She wouldn't be stupid to hope for it to last anyways though.

Well, whoever those agents were, whatever they wanted to say, do, or knew already, Sarah just didn't want any part of it. Not now or ever. End of story, bye-bye. She wouldn't find out the answers to any of those questions she had, not if she couldn't help it. She might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she knew trouble when she saw it, and knew how to run from it, and that was what she was doing now. She had done it once before when things got a little too heated for her in this town, so she would just do it again until she could return. It wouldn't be so bad, she had the cash, and she defiantly had the time. All this could be thought of as a drastic start to a hastily planned, but needed, vacation. It was just the most practical solution after all, in Sarah's mind.

Even though she was set on doing this, even if it was just for a couple of days, it scared Sarah, terrified her. But that was probably because she was a coward.

A lanky, whiny coward with a liking for romance novels and punk rock. Oh, and she could smash things with her mind whenever she got a little high strung. Guess that made her a special, one of a kind coward then. Yippy for her.

Ah, fuck this. If she was going to be on a bus ride with over thirty other people, she would need to get her act together now or plan on hiking it to Chicago. And her feet would kill her if she did the later, so, time to put up that metaphorical stiff upper lip Sarah decided.

Slumping further down into the bench she had claimed inside the shuttle bus terminal, Sarah let out sigh that encompassed everything from frustration to boredom. Knee still bouncing to a rhythm she didn't recognize, Sarah decided she could try to distract herself with one of her books. Digging through a couple of shirts, snack bars, and other junk she had gathered through the years that layered the inside of her bag, she finally found what she was looking for. When she got to Chicago, she would have to get some more…well, more of everything. She might have been able to pack appropriately if this all hadn't been so last minute panic. But even though it was all spur of the moment, she had always been a spur of the moment gal, so she would deal. Sarah didn't like thinking on what was ahead, just on what was now. Tomorrow was always a day away and what not.

Leaning back further into the bench, if that was even possible, Sarah tired her best to relax as she cracked open the paper cover of her currently favorite romance novel 'Viscount Breckenridge to the Rescue'. It was cute, some Victorian fiction with a dashing hero in a time period she loved reading about. As messily as she dressed, Sarah had always loved the glamor of a corset dress with lace, frills, and many layers of rumpled fabric. Guess in that way she was a bit of a secret girly-girl underneath her Alice Cooper tee-shirt and ripped jeans.

Though the book was very enjoyable, Sarah couldn't let herself relax, at least, not too much. But though any and every emotion was a ticking countdown to trouble whenever she and her problem were concerned, she was only human. Well, her parents were at any rate, so that had to count for something. She had emotions and she had her guilty pleasures, just like everyone else. Thing was, her little enjoyments could knock someone unconscious, most of the time her. What could she say, her aim sucked and she wasn't the most talented at dodging. Well, like she said before, no use throwing herself a pity party seeing as how she would be the only one to show up anyway.

Trying with all her might to concentrate on the pages, Sarah felt herself slowly slip down further and further into the bench, posture overly relaxed as she wanted to be. Hell, she actually let out a huff of air that could have been mistaken for a chuckle as she read how the Viscount went about bantering with the mustache wielding villain.

Her attention was pulled away from the pages of the book though, as she felt the rippling warmth of a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face. Wiping it away before it could reach her cheek, Sarah suddenly became aware of just how overly warm she was in her leather jacket. Normally, the thick material didn't bother her much, but as she felt herself become clammy, it would not be long before she would be forced to take it off. Setting the book down to do so, something else came to Sarah's attention.

Everything was so, noisy. And she didn't just mean the usual, the city that never sleeps New York noisy. No loud, head splitting din was rising up all around her, as if her ears decided they needed to hear everything around her, every last detail. The echoing squeak of bus breaks being applied, whispered coos a father was blabbering to his chubby infant, it was all filling up Sarah's head. Everything just continued to grow louder, her senses hungry for input but her mind starting to feel overused from the haste of it all as her skin continued to profuse sweat though she had shed her jacket and rolled her shirt sleeves up.

This was…sickeningly familiar. A few times she had felt this before, and the signs were nauseatingly the same. An overwhelming of sensations, building up and overtaking everything, her feet rocking back and forth as she tried to maintain something along the lines of a dignified posture. It all usually led to nothing good though. But then again, so many things in her life did.

More and more noises came to her attention, growing more desperate for her consideration, until she could swear she was feeling the loud footfalls of a woman in heels who was late to her bus beat against her head. Too distracted and aching to care if she gathered attention, Sarah started to rock back and forth, pressing her hands to her ears, fingers starting to dig into her scalp as she tried her hardest to keep her breathing somewhat normal. She needed to, God, she just needed to get out of here. Out of here before something, whatever this was building up to happened-

It hit her, like a two ton truck, it hit her full force. Bam. A wave of nausea so gut wrenching, Sarah had to wonder how she managed to make it to the bathroom in time while also managing to bring her bag along and knock over a cute couple from Detroit. It was all a blur, even how she ended up on her knees, clutching the rim of a toilet as her chest gave one dry heave after another.

This was just what she needed to make her day complete. Seeing as how she had missed meals for the past, what was it now, two days, this was exactly what she needed. No matter how many times she got these little attacks, Sarah was just never ready for them. These vomit sessions were actually pretty common with her, occurring whenever things got a bit too tough for her to handle. Blame it on repressed stress, desperate hunger pangs, or even a over whelming buildup of her swallowed down emotions, but to Sarah, it was annoyingly pathetic, whimping out over a toilet every time things got rough and she couldn't get going. She didn't handle stress well she supposed, but did she really need to lose her non-existent lunch every time? In actuality, she was rather surprised that this hadn't happened earlier, but would have really loved for it to not happen at all as she pulled down on the handle, disgusted by the taste of bile in her mouth.

As odd as it was, her jinxed luck somehow turned itself into good for once as Sarah found all the stalls in the bathroom to be empty after she finished her little stomach expulsion and was standing once more. At least no one had been around to hear her cough up her last meal, that having been, oh right, nothing but air. Feeling better that she had the space to herself and that her nausea was waning, Sarah went over to the sinks, immediately dropping her bag down to turn on the cold water.

Cupping her palms to capture some of the questionably clean liquid, Sarah doused her face, trying to wash away the sweat as well as the bags under her eyes. The flash of blue that were her irises caught her attention, and she lowered her hands to fully take in the view the mirror presented, running a hand wet from the water over the back of her neck as she did so.

It was just her reflection she was staring at, yet that somehow wasn't any comfort. The girl in the mirror was sleep deprived, hungry, and owning jungle thick hair that desperately needing a good lather, rinse, and about a thousand repeats. Sarah hated how young women like herself were always so quick to be so critical and unsatisfied with their appearances, but unfortunately, in this area of her life she was just like everybody else.

Even though she was in her twenties, her overall appearance often led people to assume she was younger. She blamed her skinny, tomboy stick of a body for that. She had absolutely not curves to claim as her own. As much as Sarah hoped it was just because she rarely was able to work in a full meal, it was much more likely it was genetics. Her being over five foot nine didn't help much either. To her comfort though, her mom was the same way. And despite her height and lack of womanly roundness, Sarah's mother was said to have been very pretty by the people who knew her, with large blue eyes, long lashes, and a near-constant smile. Those same people had once said that Sarah had those too, adding that she would grow up to be just as pretty as her mother. Well, those people were mistaken, very much so in Sarah's opinion. There was no resemblance in Sarah's eyes, maybe because she didn't want any, or maybe because she took more after her father. But that wasn't any better.

Just looking at herself, Sarah felt another wave of nausea come over, but this was not from starvation or stress. This was from self-disgust. It was rather easy for most people to feel that about themselves, but for Sarah, it had nothing to do with her looks.

Why did she have to be such a coward?

Well, because when things got bad or just are starting to look it, she ran for the hills. Sarah would never bother to stick around to see if things got better because, why risk it? Things rarely got better, so best to just forget curiosity or optimism, and move on to someplace where you were a perfect stranger to everybody.

She never wanted to think, she never wanted to know. She didn't want to plan ahead or reminisce about the good old days. All Sarah wanted to do was live out the rest of her life away from everyone, alone. Peacefully, quietly, and with as little disruption to her and everyone else's lives. Was that really too much to ask for? For her, she guessed it was. She didn't deserve anything.

Or maybe fate just liked to fuck with her for shits and giggles, who knew?

Far from happy with herself, but satisfied that this was as good as she was going to ever look this particular day after her sickly fest, Sarah tucked away a few wispy strands of her hair behind her heavily pierced ear putting on her usual forced smile. Noticing that the time was drawing nearer to three on her stolen watch, she reached into her bag. Pulling out a ball cap from the depths of it, she placed it firmly on her head. She might be a bum, and would even admit to needing a long bath, but she would be damned if she let anyone see this dreadful combination of rat nest hair and sickly complexion. She did have pride, just a little. But her little moment of vanity ended quickly as another figure stepped into the reflection of the mirror she was looking into.

"Big mistake, kiddo" A voice from behind drawled.

Having thought herself alone, a startled Sarah turned, and was greeted with a polite, and somewhat amused smile that sat directly below a pair of lady's sunglasses. It took a moment of blinking and standing still like an idiot for Sarah's gears to start turning, but when they finally did, she didn't like the destination they reached. Now fully recognizing the woman before her as that Emily chick from the three that were the root cause of her most recent problem, Sarah could hardly help but let out a surprised gasp, and take a couple steps back.

"Chill out" Was incredibly calm response Sarah's panicked scrambling got from Emily. The blonde agent stayed where she was, only lifting her chin up to nod as she crossed her arms, completely relaxed "I mean the hat. Don't you think it's a little too cliché? If I were you, I'd go for a French braid or something" She then shrugged, taking one step forward "But that's just me, anyway"

Sarah's eyes narrowed themselves in confusion, she very much at a loss for how this woman suddenly came to be here. However confused, and frankly annoyed, as Sarah was though, inwardly she was slowly becoming panicked, her gut twisting once more until she thought she was going to vomit again. Good thing there was nothing to chuck up this time she guessed, so she just sort of stood there, eyes darting to and fro. Where there was one sunglasses wearing suit, the other two couldn't be far behind she figured. Just when she thought she would be able to make it, just this once.

How did they even find her? After ducking out of the restaurant window, she hadn't seen any sign of them. Hell, she was once again starting to go back to her theory that she made the experience all up in her mind. But this woman's presence now, and here of all places confirmed without a doubt that she and her friends existed, and thusly, so did Sarah's trouble. Well, this was just great, they had been leading her around like a-

An amused chuckle from Emily interrupted her rapid thoughts, forcing Sarah to meet gazes as she removed her sunglasses.

"I know what you're thinking; 'How did they find me this time?'" The taller woman said as her posture relaxed a little, Sarah still keeping herself absolutely still, preparing to sprint off at the drop of a hat as the women casually went on.

"Well, to begin with, we never lost you. We have just been waiting for the right time to make ourselves known to you. You know, waiting until you calmed down a little so we could find the chance to talk to you again, face to face" Explained Emily, shrugging some. Seeing Sarah continue to look at her suspiciously while also trying to step further away, pressing herself up against the sink behind her like it would lead her away from here through a secret chamber, Emily's lips curved down in thought, almost as if she was displeased. The contemplative countenance was short lived though as a hint of a smile came up.

"Agent Emily Jane Striker" She announced as she stuck out her hand to shake. Somehow, and she had no idea how she managed too, Sarah took another step back, nearly putting herself up on the sink countertop.

"Easy there, kid," Emily insisted, holding up both of her hands at her sides, palms showing in a sign of surrender "I'm alone, and like I said, I just want to talk"

Though greatly delayed, Sarah finally reacted beyond just staring, and scoffed. Though rather afraid of reacting any further than the fear, confusion, and annoyance that was miraculously coursing through her without finding an outlet via her problem, Sarah couldn't help herself to not at least one snide comment as she managed to sling her bag over her shoulder, leather jacket stuffed inside.

"So talk, but pardon me if I don't stick around to listen"

And just like that, she was out of the bathroom, willing to bet she left skid marks behind. The woman said she only wanted to talk, but Sarah would be damned if she fell for the old wooden horse routine. As her clunky boots pounded against the ground, her eyes searched everywhere, hoping to not come across what she was looking for. That being more sunglasses waiting around to pounce on her. She also hoped that none of them, especially that blonde chick, would try anything since she was in full view of others, but she wasn't really the hopeful type.

Seeing nothing, not even little miss Emily following her, Sarah forced a breath of false relief through her as she stepped outside of the shuttle terminal, plans for escaping New York by way of bus now shot. So far, so good for now though. Well, at least no one gunned her down the moment she stepped outside. But so far was only a few steps out of the building, and not out of the city as she had planned to be. So really, not good at all then. Far would have to be farther now that it was blatantly apparent that these guys were following and wanted something from her.

Denying herself to think further into the subject of what they wanted out of worry for her problems reaction to it, Sarah kept on going, just one foot in front of the other, walking away as calmly as she could. That miracle of her problem not flaring out from before was continuing somehow, and while she knew it would only be a matter of time before it expressed itself, she was thankful for its absence.

"I was like you, once" Stated a figure that was suddenly beside her, turning out to be Agent Emily as she slid out from some unseen corner by Sarah, effectively knocking Sarah back a couple of steps in shock, nearly tripping over her own feet.

"I knew what it was like to have a defense mechanism" Continued the woman, as if reminiscing on a particular fond memory. The slight up curve on the corners of her mouth turned down quickly, Sarah unable to do anything but block pedestrian traffic in her shaking, flabbergasted shock "Do you always revert to sarcasm when you don't want to properly communicate with others?" Finished Emily, her face now eerily serious. Sarah looked away though as someone pushed past her to continue on their busy day. That thankfully snapped Sarah right back into being capable of cognitive thought, and was able to finally recall what the woman was talking about.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me? You've obviously been watching me" Sarah guessed curtly as she side stepped the woman, watching her even as she began to walk away. Just as she thought, this time Emily followed after her, matching her chaotic pace with her own leisurely one.

"Yes, do you want to know why?" She offered casually. As if she hadn't had enough of them yet today, the agent's answer surprised Sarah. And truthfully, Sarah didn't know how to react to this. She didn't want to know. At least, not when she thought that this whole agents confronting her was going to be a onetime gig, but now that it was apparent that they weren't going to leave her alone any time soon…no. In her case, ignorance was the sweetest bliss she could afford. Emily however, didn't seem to care that Sarah was still tightlipped and walking as fast as she could away, for she answered anyways.

"We've been watching you for a very long time, Sarah" She started to explain, following Sarah as she turned down the one street in this neighborhood she was familiar with "We needed to find out what you could do, and while we can't explain too much about where your powers came from, or how you got them, we do know that we can—"

"Don't call it that" Sarah interjected, her voice snapping with anger. Somewhere in the distance, she heard glass shattering, and dared to hope that it wasn't her problem deciding to come back. Emily though, while still walking alongside her, lost her countenance of calm and collected as her expression became that of confusion.

"Pardon?" She asked, brows narrowed down. Sarah only scoffed, feeling less inclined to keep her anger to herself.

Before, when she never let herself believe that if these agents did exist and were after her, which they obviously were, she also didn't think they might be after her solely because of her problem. It just, wasn't really something she had ever considered before. No, it was something she refused to consider. She was more willing to think the reason these huffy government guys were after her because that woman sent them. But the thought that someone, anyone, would want her for her problem was repulsive to Sarah. Absolutely nauseating, more so than any single one of her panic attacks ever could be. And now that she knew that was exactly what these people were after, well, she would have no choice but to set the record straight.

"Don't call what I do a power. It's not" She continued as she stopped walking, knowing at this point it wasn't really doing her any good. Feeling comforted that she was in front of a thin alley just in case she needed to blot she turned to face Emily, who was still looking confused. That went away quickly though as she soaked in Sarah's tone, detecting the meaning behind it almost immediately. Woman was sharp, Sarah would give her that much.

"That doesn't mean you can't learn how to control it" Emily assured her softly after a moment of pondering carefully what to say, folding her arms like she did before "We can do that, and in return, you can have your life back"

Taking a couple steps back to enter into the alley way, Sarah once more scoffed. This chick didn't know when to give up. Have her life back? Since when did she ever have a life to begin with? This was the way things have always been, and would have to remain. Shaking her head, Sarah replied.

"There's nothing you guys can do that I haven't already tried. So give it up and go away" As she prepared to turn down the alley way, she saw a slight slump of defeat in Emily's poised shoulder. Hopefully, her companions are discouraged now as well, and finally leave her alone-

"Twenty bucks"

Barely three steps into the alleyway, Sarah had to stop to turn back, seeing the hopeful defeat in Emily complete gone, replaced with a hint of a smile. There was even an enjoyment in her expression at the lost look that was no doubt on Sarah, her curiosity forcing her to stay

"What?" Knowing that for the moment she had Sarah's attention, Emily stepped closer, unfolding her arms to bring them out in front of her, as if to shake on a deal.

"I bet you twenty bucks that we can help you, and that what we've got planned will work" She said, that hint of a smile curling into a competitive smirk.

Sarah was, once more to her great annoyance, only capable of giving off the most perplexed expression, blinking slowly. Well that was, odd. Unexpected really, and it took Sarah's rising anger down a peg or two. And made her think, much to her dislike. This woman was really convinced about what she was saying; hell, she was willing to bet on it. Then again, her bet was only twenty dollars, so Sarah was very much far from convinced. She was not a cheap gal. About to continue in her walking away, Sarah heard Emily continue from behind her, tone calm but hurried to plead.

"We're not going to perform any experiments, or make clones of you, or lock you in a cage. We just want to help you. I swear it"

At the end of her last statement, Sarah felt a bit of self-loathing grow within her as her feet stopped again. Help her? Is that what this had been all about, hm, now why didn't she believe that? For one thing, because there was nothing to be helped. Sarah knew there was nothing, at least nothing she had ever tired that could control her problem. Not practice, not isolation, not drugs. Now this woman and her friends give her the scare of the century, chasing her and claiming that they have the miracle cure to her problem, and they want to give it to her? Well, something about this was screaming 'too good to be true' here, and it was Sarah's common sense.

But if she had ever really followed her common sense, she wouldn't be alive right now at this moment. Like she knew assuredly about herself, she was a coward. Fear doesn't work under any sort of sense, just basic impulse. The impulse to avoid, to run from what you fear. And Sarah was certainly good at that.

And yet, while she may be good at running away, that didn't mean she didn't get sick and tired of it. For years, she had no place to go, no one to talk to let alone trust. Running was all she could do. And now, out of the unknown blue, this woman was offering just that which she had never had but wanted above everything else; control. With control, she could actually have a choice, and with choice, she could make amends. Maybe this could be that silver lining people are always talking about. Maybe she could accept someone's help, if just to help herself for once. Just this once.

But then, that's exactly why she would have to say no.

"I can't-" She started, lips parting to answer the patiently awaiting Emily, when she caught movement from the corner of her eyes. Sunglasses, and a suit. Crap.

"We've got her lined up at the mouth of the alley at Fifth and Terrence. Close in now" Was what the man Sarah immediately recognized as Phil Coulson spoke the moment he realized she had spotted him, getting up from the café table he was not so innocently sitting at. Looking anxiously around for the others he was surely calling down upon her from his earpiece, Sarah noticed Emily scowl.

"Pull back. I've got this" She spoke in her own earpiece, trying to override Coulson's orders. He didn't seem too happy about that, but what did Sarah care?

"No, you don't" Was the last comment she left Emily behind with, taking off down the alleyway. It might have been very possible to say that she was literally tucking tail, but nothing save the bag at her side trailed behind Sarah as her long legs sprinted for all they were worth. To her even greater panic, if that was even possible at this point, her ears were picking up the sounds of thudding footfalls everywhere, but whether they were her own or belonged to an army of agents, her rapid heartbeat wouldn't let her stay long to figure out.

Stupid, just stupid. A few moments of hearing that woman out, and of course it comes back to bite Sarah. Idiotic on her part, and her part alone. It was bad enough that she had her jinxed luck, her cowardice, and her problem, but now she had suddenly become stupid and trustworthy? She preferred to be senile.

It was official. Fate did like to screw around with her. Well, while fate was busy with that, Sarah would just have to keep one step ahead of it, and the agents that were defiantly behind her, she turning a sharp corner and jumping a fence, leaving a few of the less spry ones behind. Where the hell did these others come from? It was like the original three had just spontaneously bred more suits and sunglasses just to chase her, a thought that creeped Sarah out on many different levels. And yet, somewhere in between her now aching, burning limbs, her rapid breathing, and her now heightened sense of panic, Sarah was grateful that her problem was not showing itself, despite the number of agents still after her.

Then again, as she ran into a wall of muscle that nearly caused her to sprawl onto the ground, a bit of glass shattering didn't seem quite so terrible.

Stumbling back several steps, Sarah turned to face the object that had shot her back when she made the mistake of looking back to see if agents she had lost a few minutes ago had caught up. Unfortunately, she found herself preferring the other agents as the man she remembered as Gun looked down at her from his height of over six feet, glaring at her from behind his shades.

"There's nowhere to go" He told her in his dead pan voice. Out of all that had happened to her so far today, this, his tone, was what made Sarah feel her problem swing out of her in full force, ready to strike. Just something in the way his posture never stirred or his glare lessen even as he came closer warned some part of her mind that whatever was coming next was going to hurt, a lot.

It was funny, out of all the things she had considered they wanted from her, hurting her just wasn't one of them. Wasn't up until now that is, as she tried to jump up and dash around Gun, but that python like grip of his was too quick, and seized her by the back of her neck. Howling like a cat in pain, Sarah's hands flung to where his was, her fingers scrambling to pry him off, to lessen the pain even just a little bit. Before her problem even had time to protect her, she was thrown against the brick wall of one of the buildings that lined the alley, feeling stars force themselves into her vision as her head screamed without aid of a voice.

"I do apologize" Spoke Gun, still using that unfeeling tone as Sarah tried to keep her eyes open against the numbing feeling that was taking over her entire body, as well as a feeling of warm liquid dripping down her neck "But I am under special orders to use any means to obtain the target when the other's tactics fail" Finished Gun as he slowly kneeled down to where Sarah was slumped against the wall, her legs sprawled out over bags of trash and clutter. Tilting his head to one side as he removed his sunglasses, he studied her dazed expression with a bit of amusement one would have when looking at an insect scrabbling on its back.

"Now, you can continue to be obstinate and try to fight me off before the others get here. Or," He paused, reaching out with one hand to yank Sarah back onto her feet, pressing her firmly against the wall until she could feel the individual linings of the bricks grating against her skin, imprinting it "you stay still like a good little girl, politely cooperate, and not have that cute face bruised"

Dazed, scared, and outright disgusted as Gun's mint heavy breath washed over her face, Sarah forced her eyes to focus on him. Seeing from the corner of her eye some jerking movement as she felt something course through to her fingertips, she smirked.

"Aw, you think I'm cute?" Sarah spat sweetly. Immediately, and with less control than she was hoping for, Sarah used her problem to call forth the sure fire item one could find aplenty in New York. Trash cans. The metal container hit the exposed back of Gun with enough force to knock the air out of him, and better still, loosen his vice like grip on the front of her shirt, allowing her to slip away.

"I'm flattered, really. But I'm not attracted to big, strong men who aren't afraid to show it with someone half their size" She rushed out as she tried to find her bearing, her head swimming as she felt the traces of blood dripping down her spine, staining the back of her shirt. The thought of that red liquid was enough to make her gut churn all over again, but the concussion may have also been playing a part in that. As much as it was going to pain her, she was going to have to run some more still. Who knows how long she would have until those other agents turned that one corner that was probably separating her from them-

In the distant back of her mind, Sarah was able to reason what happened next. A hand, her face, the wall, a crack, all in that order. But all she could really think about was that this garbage infested, brick walled alleyway that was home to stray cats and infectious rats alike, was going to be the last thing she would see for a while. Not really the last sight she wanted to be left with, but as her eyes closed and the lull of forced sleep took her, she didn't have much time to protest.

"Gunner? Why weren't you in position?" Shouted Phil as he and a few other agents they had called in for back up finally caught up. Gun looked them over, and duly noted that they didn't even have their weapons drawn or refused to take the offensive when it came to chasing their target, and tried to hide a sneer. Phil Coulson missed it though, as he looked over the disturbingly limp form of Sarah, she barely discernible from the rest of the litter she lay upon.

"What the hell happened here?" He questioned, his voice carrying over the authority he hoped he wouldn't need to remind Gun of as he straightened himself to answer.

"I was moving into position when I came across the target. She resisted, sir"

"Impossible" Spoke up a voice that greatly contradicted the dead monotone of Gunner's. Stepping out of an alcove that was missed by everyone, Agent Emily kept her eyes locked with Gun's, a hint of a smirk on her lips. Unphased that she had appeared from almost nowhere, Gun glared at the agent, trying to discern how much she knew.

"What girl could possibly resist you and your manly charms?" She finished with, coming to stand besides Phil. A scoff of disapproval left her as she watched the several other agents make their way closer to Sarah, checking her vitals and making sure she was not too damaged for transport. This was not the plan, at least, not what she had hoped the plan would have to come to.

"Now what?" Emily asked, turning towards Phil. Replacing his sunglasses over his eyes as he flipped open his phone and place it by his ear, he sighed.

"Now, we take her back to headquarters and hope we don't have too many papers to file"

~o0o~

The LaLaBlue Post:

Yeah, again, super sorry for the long chapter. I just wanted it to be really good, after scrapping many versions of this one chapter time and time again, it just ended up being a bit lengthy. Oh well. Please comment, as I value feedback and gushing praise (criticisms are welcomed as well, so long as forthcoming about what is exactly grating your cheese in my story, and in a nice enough language that you would feel alright reading it out loud to your own grandmother). Anyhoo, thank you all so much for making it this far into my little story, and may I see you in the next chapter (Spoilers, Sarah gets to meet a few Avengers, and our favorite green god, Loki! Trust me folks, it's gonna be good!)


	4. Unwanted Help

Chapter 4; Unwanted Help:

Warning; Rated M for swearing, violence, lemony things, lots of cool psychic happenings and awesome superheroes. You have been warned…

Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Avengers' or any of its characters, I am only using them to fulfill my own disillusioned dreams and fan-girl wishes. : P

It uh, might be redundant to say how sorry I am that it took me this long to update. My feels for this story sort of flew out the window. But thanks to Miss Pibbles, and some very lovely Tom Hiddleston interview clips, I was able to find my drive.

Speaking of Tom Hiddleston, go on YouTube, type 'Tom Hiddleston, I will be the first man…' and click on the first video that pops up. None of you will be disappointed, I know my ovaries weren't before I had to go to the emergency room for a replacement (Again, thank you Miss Pibbles for the flowers, they were lovely) Anyhoo, I will be focusing my energies on this story while I recover, so please, review if you enjoy, it helps me know what people like or want more of!

~o0o~

_"I've burned down every bridge that I've found, now I limit myself to a six gun quota. I played down every feeling I've felt and I bottled them up until the well ran over" ~_ **_Six Gun Quota by Seether_**

Sarah knew she was alive. At least, that's what she interpreted the stinging pain she felt all over herself as. As feeling, as life. Her life still going.

This only meant one thing to Sarah; that she would have to open her eyes soon enough, she would be incredibly sore, painfully hungry, and no doubt in a strange place with people she didn't know who probably had nasty things in store for her.

The throbbing pain in her head continued to beat against her senses, and it took Sarah quite some time to be able to properly use any of them. Slowly, and with more force than she wanted to use, she pried her eyes open, a sliver of blurred color blinding her the moment she succeeded. A groan escaped her at the bright pain the light brought her, and she heard someone stepping closer.

"Where…?" Sarah whispered, her own voice hurting her as if her throat was coated with rust. Forcing her eyes to at least half open, she looked down and was able to see that she was sitting down, her hands behind her. Strange that she had to see that before the rest of her caught up to confirm that she was indeed in a chair, legs stiffening up and her chest slumped into the back as if it were glued to it.

"Take it easy, the Director will be here soon" Spoke a voice that was all too familiar by now. Sarah growled in irritation as Emily, sporting her suit of black still, leaned down to look her over. Damn woman. So they did get her, it wasn't just some hunger induced hallucination. Recalling everything that had happened, up to the painful conclusion with the unpleasant Gun, Sarah had to wonder what was next for her and these so called agents. Not that she really wanted to find out, but seeing as she had no idea where she was, how she got here, it seemed she had no choice.

Seeing Sarah's attempt to not so subtly try to free her hands from whatever was keeping them tied back, Emily chuckled.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You're way too out of it to try and even think about taking me on, even if you get free. And no more funny mind power business either, you need your rest. You got a long day ahead of you"

"Your concern touches me deeply. Really, I think we're having one of those bonding moments. Literally, in my case" Sarah scoffed, continuing to shift her hands around, now able to feel cold metal resting on her wrists. Damn, that Phil guy wasn't kidding about the handcuffs. And seeing as how she had yet to tell what was up and what wasn't spotted with psychedelic flowers, they drugged her too, probably to keep her problem at bay. Jerks. It wouldn't matter though; soon enough her problem would come back to her, and perhaps this time, she just might not bother controlling it.

"Well, for better or worse, you're sarcasm is still intact" Emily smiled as she leaned against the rounded edge of a table, folding her arms as she watched Sarah continue to scowl and try to get back her basic motor functions. Though far from being able to feel her toes, let alone rationalize or think clearly about what she was going to do or if she should start panicking yet, Sarah managed to spot a twist of guilt creep onto Emily's smile.

"Hey, sorry about Gun. I had hoped for that to be avoided"

Sarah blinked, and for a second considered taking what Emily said to be true. But as the drugged induced blurring in her head wore off, her decision was made for her by common sense. Before she could retort to the still smiling face of Emily, an unseen pair of doors opened behind her.

Instantly Emily stiffened, her face composing itself sternly as she looked past Sarah.

"That's my cue to leave. Be seeing you around, kiddo" Was the last thing she told Sarah, even daring so much as to give her a wink before leaving her vision.

"She's conscious and ready for questioning sir"

"Good. Thank you Agent Striker, you're dismissed" Spoke an unfamiliar voice to Emily from behind her, deep and authoritative. Turning as far as she could, which wasn't much seeing as how her spine felt like someone had played Chinese checkers with it, Sarah watched four figures step around the chair she was stuck in. Two went towards the table, one stopped by her side, and another put its face right up in hers. If she wasn't so downed by drugs and rapidly becoming terrified about her dire situation, she might have been annoyed.

"So, this is Sarah. That picture didn't do you justice. Though, you are a bit more stoned and bruised than I expected" Spoke the man that stood in front of her, and Sarah tried to work up a sneer, but it grew into a grimace as she tasted blood on her lip.

"Leave her alone, Stark" Spoke one of the two that was already seated at the rounded table before her, tone curt but oddly kind. Unable to take the thought of blood in her mouth, Sarah spat, watching a dot of red fall to the floor. Feeling queasy now on top of everything else, Sarah missed the furrowed brow of the man in front of her.

"Shouldn't you be saying that to Fury?"

Sarah, blinking and trying not to gag at the warm, bitter taste that was her mouth, could not help but think something sounded vaguely familiar. Specifically, the name Stark. Having been born and bred in New York, there were few who didn't know that name, but while Sarah knew the name and of course could hardly miss the eye sore that was Stark Tower, she herself couldn't pick the billionaire out of a crowd of two.

So then, maybe the pair of brown eyes drifting before her was the Stark from her town, maybe not. She didn't really care. As for how she was going to get out of here, now that she did care about. All of them didn't seem to put off about having her here, like it was just a regular Monday thing to have a girl handcuffed and drugged in their office. If that was the case, despite her dread, she couldn't help but feel just a tad bit confused. Well, more confused than before.

There were a couple of fleeting thoughts that went through her mind, but none of them offered any solutions or explanations. Credible or sane ones anyway. She continued to look around, not quite able to believe what she was seeing, or wanting to either. Beside her, was a woman with fiery red hair that was at war with her cold expression, her attention completely on the man who was at the head of the table. He himself was odder than the woman, wearing a long coat of pristine leather that put Sarah's to shame, and an eye patch allowing for only one of his pricing eyes to return her stare. But even that was enough to put her on edge.

Topped off with the could-be-Stark and a man who looked like he was born in the land of homemade apple pies and white picket fences both now seated at the table, Sarah was wondering how much longer these drugs were going to affect her brain chemistry. However as much as she wished to believe the whole scene before her was a hallucination, her mind was starting to clear, the fume of the drugs leaving her. The pain of her beating from Gunner becoming sharper as a result, especially the gash on the back of her head, and with it her temper rose to downplay some of her fear.

For a moment, it seemed the man with the eye patch was going to fill the silence, but the doors behind Sarah opened once more.

Not feeling to welcoming to more company, imaginary or not, she turned to glare at the two figures that had shown up. Two men, both very tall, one of them indescribably muscular with long locks of blonde she was almost jealous of. The other was slighter, and had a calculating look on him, his hair dark and slicked back. Quite stoic looking and oddly dressed the both of them, but all Sarah could think of was that of course more weirdoes would show up. Misery does love company after all.

"The delusional plot thickens" Sarah finally spoke as she turned back to face forward. Sarcasm was the best defense she had; it was sometimes all she had other than panicking and getting sick to her stomach with stress. And that was certainly true of this situation. Fine chance it was going to help her get out of this though, but here's to hoping.

No one paid attention to her though. Everyone was watching the two newcomers sit themselves down in the far corner of the room, when Sarah heard the one eyed man clear his throat, subtly demanding her attention.

"Miss Evans, I am Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. Do you have any idea why you have been brought here?" He spoke as Sarah tried to straighten her posture. So, this was the head man of those agents that chased and caught her like a stray dog? Well, that only made him all the more frightening, if just a bit disliked by her.

"Possibly. And while I'm all for administering justice and whatnot, isn't this a lot of crack down on a girl only guilty of dinning and dashing a couple times?" She asked with a hint of innocence to her still croaky voice. The one eyed man, Fury, didn't seem amused.

"I'm sure you are aware that you wouldn't be here if it was that simple" He told her with a tone that hinted that this was not the time for jokes. But Sarah wasn't really good at taking hints; besides, she had to do something until the drug completely left her system enough to recall her problem, which just might end up being a solution for once if she could get it right this time.

"Okay. I confess. I shoplift and pickpocket on occasion" She shrugged, hearing a snigger leave the Stark impersonator, whose shoes were now propped up on the table and hands fiddling with some small device that looked important. Sarah glanced at him curiously when Fury went on.

"We at SHIELD have heard of your mildly illegal habits. But we're not interested in that" With that, he nodded, and Sarah saw the redhead next to her lean down. She stiffed as the black uniformed woman grabbed her hands, only to be relieved when the pair of handcuffs on her were suddenly gone. Bringing her hands before her to start rubbing the red marks on her wrists, Sarah nodded her hesitant thanks to the red head. She didn't respond, only took a step back, arms folded across her chest.

"We've actually have heard a lot about you, Sarah" Fury commented, she turning to look back at him as he casually flipped through the folder that lay on the table.

"Funny," she retorted, braving a smirk "I can't say I've heard of you or your organization before your guys made it their mission to annoy me"

Fury glanced up at her from the contents of the folder, remarkably impassive "There's not a lot to tell" He said, making the Stark look alike snicker again, though his attention never left the little screen in front of him.

"Then I don't have a lot of time. Why am I here? And where is here exactly?" Sarah asked, glancing around the room, this time taking in the architecture. The place seemed normal enough, all business like and modernly decorated with a large bay window looking over a view Sarah wasn't close enough to appreciate. Running a hand to smooth back the hair that had fallen in front of her face, she found her eyes landing on the muscular blonde in the corner.

His full attention was on the dark haired man sitting next to him, watching and waiting to react. He wasn't the only one; besides Stark and Fury, everyone's attention was on the slicked haired guy, who was in turn an excellent job of ignoring them. Good, with all their attention on him, it made Sarah feel less like a bug under the microscope.

"Coincidentally, we don't have a lot of time either" Fury said, his tone serious as he ignored her questions. Not that she really needed them answered. Emily had already spilled about what this SHIELD wanted from her, as Sarah was all too able to recall. As for where, Sarah planned on getting out of here even if it was in the middle of the Sahara, she could care less.

But, seeing as that for now she was still weak and now only beginning to feel a surge of what others would call power in her, she knew it would be best to give Fury what he wanted. Which appeared to be for her to listen. For now at least.

"Then fire away" She droned, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest in an attempt to relax herself "I'm all ears"

Fury snapped the folder shut.

"There have been quite a few… serious matters that have come up in recent times that require our urgent attention. They need to be dealt with as swiftly and as quickly as possible. The world, despite our best efforts, is filling up with people who can't be matched, can't be controlled"

"And what's that got to do with me?" Sarah interrupted tersely. Fury seemed hesitant to continue, as if what he was going to say next was an affront to his pride, but he somehow built a bridge and got over it.

"I'm not going to lie, Sarah. We've been watching you for a long time. A very long time, in fact. And, it turns out you're one of those people. Your," Fury paused as he glanced around him warily at the others, who to his apparent comfort were not appearing interested "abilities make you something that needs to be reckoned with. It would be undesirable to have you against us. To put bluntly, we want you on our side"

Sarah couldn't help but let out a scoff. But her heart rate picked up as his last few words caught on. Her shoulders became squared, and she shifted herself in the chair, body ready for an imminent escape. She knew what he was getting at, and there was no way in hell it was gonna happen. Ever. She couldn't allow them to do it, even if she still was too disgusted to believe that they actually wanted to. To her surprise, anger started to override her downplayed fear, and she felt a twitch start up in her hands.

"I'm not for sale" Sarah finally said, letting out each word slowly and deliberately.

"We aren't offering any money" Fury explained.

"And I'm not selling anything" Sarah shot back, quickly becoming fed up with the man's inquisition.

With that, she stood up from her chair, but Fury was quick to follow. Sarah whirled around on her heel so fast that it would have given her whiplash as she then held up a pointed finger toward him, eyebrows furrowed down into a scowl. She spoke before Fury could, her tone becoming much darker than it was before, despite the rusty tone of it.

"Look, whatever it is, whatever this is, I don't want any part of it. I've got enough troubles of my own, thank you very much. You're just gonna have to find another freak somewhere else" Some of the group looked at her, faces unreadable, like American Golden Boy. But even Fury didn't say anything as Sarah returned the stares, testing to see if what she was about to do next would go over well or not. She was going to take the chance either way though. Luck favors the bold, or something like that. Straightening the leather jacket she was still thankfully wearing, Sarah turned to face the pair of doors behind her.

"I'm outta here" She grumbled, pushing past the redheaded agent that stood by her chair.

"Leave now and you won't get the help you've been wishing for since you were fifteen" Fury called out calmly from behind her, Sarah stopping dead in her tracks the minute he did so. She became tense, the pain of her head lost as the words echoed throughout her mind. Fifteen. Why? Why did he have to bring up that?

"You need help," Fury continued, figuring this was a now or never moment concerning Sarah's decision to cooperate, "and we are willing to give it to you. You've made a lot of mistakes Sarah. Hurt a lot of innocent people. Don't you think it's time to gain control so you never hurt anyone ever again?"

He went on, ignoring or not caring how Sarah's hands began to shake as they gripped at the side of her jacket, how little noises began to intensify in her head.

"We are the only people who can help you control yourself. You can be re-introduced into society, maybe even patch things up with your family"

In any other situation, Sarah would already be running. She would be counting backwards from ten and trying to keep herself calm and controlled, for what that was worth. But as she continued to tense up, a surge of her power suddenly dancing at her finger tips, ready to play, running felt like the last thing she wanted to do, despite that her conditioned instincts were screaming for her to. For once, she wanted to get mad.

"I don't want help" Sarah clenched her jaw as she ground out her words slowly, not bothering to turn. How dare they do this to her? Drag her here and expect her to just give into what they wanted. They think that just because she could be a potential threat that she needed to be brought in like this, to be on their side? Even she knew that she deserved better than this treatment. And how did she even know that these guys were the good guys, anyway? How could she trust them to actually help her, like they were promising, when they were the ones that drugged her, beat her, and dared to bring up _that_ date?

Mad, but not mad enough to want to stick around to find out what excuses they had, Sarah headed for the door. Just as she reached for the handle, Fury's next words ripped through faster than a shock to the system.

"What happened that night, Sarah? That night he stopped you from leaving?"

Blue eyes went wide with both fear and anger. Sarah blinked a few times, hesitating just to make sure that she had heard Fury right. She replayed the words over in her head quickly, and while her instinct told her to run still, some part of her left her no choice but to react differently.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Sarah ground out as she turned to face Fury, expression slowly twisting. The other's where lost to her focus on the leather clad man ahead of her, not that they were too interested, the dark haired man still their focus. But, curious eyes did start to flicker over towards Sarah as her anger rose up in a panic that wrenched at her gut and breaths uneven while Fury finished.

"We know everything, Sarah"

Sarah strode forward menacingly; shoulders taut and face twisted into a hard glare as she moved past the redhead who was watching her warily.

"You don't know anything. You know nothing about me"

Fury then picked up the folder that lay shut on his desk. He held it up, and Sarah was dangerously aware of what it contained. The anger vanished from her eyes, leaving only fear to be visible.

"Everything I need to know," He explained as started to move around the table, towards Sarah, "is right in here. If I never need to know your height, or your weight, it's right in here"

"Stop it" Sarah said softly, gaze lost to the floor at her feet. Things long buried and being paid for were coming back at the mere thought of the knowledge the man now held in his hands. But Fury didn't stop.

"If I ever need to know your fears, or your shoe size, it's all right here—"

"—Stop it" she croaked out, voice suspiciously tight. Sarah should have turned around, she should have stopped listening. She knew the signs of where this would lead if she didn't, but she didn't have that little voice that told her to quit while ahead. Apparently, neither did Fury.

"—And if I ever need to know about that night you found out you were allergic to—" He went on, Sarah now ready to shout.

"—Stop—"

"—Or when you broke your—"

"—Shut—!"

"—It's all right—!"

"—I SAID STOP IT!"

Suddenly, everything went dark. The sound of glass shattering was crushingly deafening, and Sarah stopped in her tracks as she felt something cold and metallic press up against her temple.

She didn't need to look up to see just what was pressing down on her temple; it was painfully clear at what it was, and Sarah stiffened with a fear she hadn't experienced in a long time. A fear of dying. Suddenly, the lights flickered back to life, and the whole room's gaze landed on her.

Chairs flipped, dislocated wires spattering electricity, windows cracked. Nearly every inch of the room was a mess, the sound of falling glass covering the stillness. The people themselves didn't look as bad as the room, but not by much. Most ducked in time and were rising slowly, expecting more perhaps. Sarah however, found herself more fixated on the gun that was pressed to the side of her face, the redhead that before now locking her in a hold, ready for orders.

Sarah's eyes flickered from the gun, then back to the rest of the group, then back to the gun, all the while trying to bring down the raving beat in her chest. So far, she was grotesquely failing.

"Natasha, stand down" she heard Fury say slowly, deliberately. Sarah could see that his burly hand was hovering just above the holster of his own handgun. His lone eye was hard, menacing, and everyone else in the room seemed either tense, shocked, or both.

A few moments passed before the cool metal of the gun was retracted from her temple, and Sarah almost took in a sigh of relief. Instead, her relief was in the form of a really dark shiver that ran through her body. She hadn't even realized that her breathing bordered on suffocation until she was allowed that first intake of air.

"What…was that?" she heard the Golden Boy with short blonde hair and fair skin murmur. His eyes roamed around the room before landing on her, and Sarah couldn't help but feel just a bit of shame override her panic. She could never get used to this; people's reactions, once they saw what she could do. With a sigh, Sarah hid her face behind her hands, holding them there before letting them sweep her hair back tiredly as the aftermath of the anger and terror finally flooded out of her body.

"That, is exactly why she was brought here" she heard Fury say, tone serious "Sarah here is a very powerful telekinetic. Has been since the day she was born. Unfortunately, she has yet to learn how to control her powers properly, and that has led to many…unhappy accidents" He finished, dusting off a bit of glass that hand landed on his shoulders as if it was nothing but confetti.

"Apparently" Agreed Golden Boy, looking Sarah over as she tried to control her shuddering over having released so much emotion and power. Every little technique she used before to calm herself was thrown out the window, and Sarah was just clutching at stiches to pull herself together, fearing what might happen if she let herself go again knowing what steps these people would take to defend themselves.

"Wait, wait," a voice broke through the short silence, belonging to the maybe Stark of New York "you mean to tell us, that this girl is a psychic? Bend spoons, levitate, that sort of thing?"

"Exactly. But she obviously can do a lot more than just bend silverware" Corrected Fury, and Stark sat and leaned back in his chair, fascinated and both disturbed it seemed.

Sarah, exhausted and running out of patience, was getting really fed up, really fast. She just wanted them to stop dancing around and just tell her what the fuck they wanted from her. Well, she knew what they wanted, but she needed to know what they were willing to do in order to get what they wanted from her. She needed to know just how deep these guys were going to drag her to get what they wanted.

"What are you going to do to me? Put me on a slab, see what makes me tick? Make adorable little clones to use as personal slaves?" She bit out, crossing her arms over her chest to find some support.

Fury, from the opposite side of the table, shook his head. "No, though we will be running a few tests. Harmless, I assure you. Like I said, we want to help you"

Sarah glanced around, looking over the people that had not a few minutes before ignored her, but now could not stare at her enough in confusion or annoyance to some degree as they finally recovered from her tantrum. These people really wanted to help her? Truly? She highly doubted that. they knew what she was, and they wanted a part of it. Fury said it himself, they wanted her on their side. And given the steps they've taken to get her this far, they were not going to give up on that goal easily. No matter how many little tantrums her problem gave them.

Now her better nature was screaming at her to run, but, something held her firmly in place. Help her, that's what Emily from before was saying that was all they wanted to do. And she was willing to bet that it would work. Sarah had tried everything, her parents had tried everything, the many doctors they took her to before they decided to hide her away tried everything, how could she believe that what these people had up their sleeves would work?

Should she even be considering this? She herself had just said she didn't want or need help. Neither was true, but what else could she do. Trying to seek out help, from the beginning never turned out for the better. But still, control. To have control, Sarah had never wished for anything more. To have little whims and tempers without worrying that they might cut someone on shattered glass, kill someone. She was good at running, but was sick of it, sick of being by nature a coward for her own and other's good.

Fury was right. She did owe it to the innocent people she hurt to find control. She owed it to herself to at least listen to what Fury had to say. And fear, cowardice, could be overridden by a chance to payback for all the bridges she burned. Even if she herself still didn't believe that she should be given any such opportunity.

Slowly, her eyes still glancing around, Sarah sat herself back down in her chair, legs and arms crossed.

"Help me how?"

Fury needed no further encouragement to continue in his persuading. Once more picking up the folder, he shuffled through some of the documents.

"We're going to help you learn how to control your powers through training and investigating with the several theories our scientists have come up with about people like you already"

Sarah immediately shook her head. Investigating, she knew what he really meant, and that was a line she was going to draw in the sand right now.

"No experiments. I refuse to be treated like some fifth grader's cute little science project twice in the same life time" Her statement didn't surprise Fury any, but still, he tried to correct her understanding of what he had said.

"No one is going to experiment on you, Sarah. We just want to—"

"Don't lie to me!" she cut off abruptly, standing up sharply from her chair to slam her hands on the table. The redhead was quick on her feet too, gun in hand, but pointed to the ground this time. With a raised hand from Fury though, she backed off, giving time for Sarah to bring herself down, eyes pressed shut.

After a moment, Sarah spoke again, pretending to be calm.

"I refuse to be experimented on, do you understand me? If you come within ten feet of me with a needle in your hand, then you're gonna have a bigger mess then just some glass to clean up" She finished, gesturing to the room around them "But," she began again, tone hesitant "how do you plan on fixing my problem?"

Fury seemed confused by her choice of words, but only for the briefest of seconds. Closing the folder again, he crossed his arms and began to speak on something that by a degree seemed painful to his pride.

"To help you learn to harness your powers, you'll be taught by Loki, whose abilities we've found come the closest to yours"

Looking over to the corner Fury gestured, Sarah looked over at the dark, slicked haired man. Noticing his posture stiffening, as if this was the first time he had heard him volunteering for such a thing, Sarah couldn't help but become very confused. Abilities like hers? What did that mean? Did he…

"He doesn't look much like a teacher" was all she managed to say despite the many questions that were now in mind.

"That's because he is only here part time. Most of the time he is trying to take over the world or is sitting in a corner moping about how dull and insignificant humans are compared to the god he is" Stark said in one breath. He shrugged when Sarah's brows rose in confusion "Or something like that"

Sarah looked over at the silent man in the corner again, this time looking harder. He was glaring now at Fury, eyes hard and cold. God? Sudden recognition made Sarah jolt as she remembered now seeing this man's face before. How could she not, it had been shown on almost every newspaper and channel time and time again after the attack on New York. While Sarah herself was spending time in a section of abandoned underground during the shattering event itself, she, like every other citizen, grew to hate the face of the man who had tried to rule them. Not even an election, just came in with a freakish army and thought he could mess up Time Square and that no one would get pissed off.

Loki of Asgard she believed was the title they repeated on the news.

And despite having no armor now, no crowd before him bowing in fear, he still carried that dangerous and terrifying presence of a man who had no heart. Least, that's how the media put it, that he was a criminal, a monster. But then, what was a criminal like him doing here, back on Earth? Hadn't he been returned to his planet for punishment?

The moment the man's eyes shot over to return her stare though, Sarah instantly found herself looking away. Whether he was or wasn't the man who tried to destroy her home or not, she felt it was in her best interest to have little to do with him as possible.

"While you were unconscious, we did run one test" Fury admitted, and Sarah had to hold back the growling objection that erupted in her throat. "And it confirmed what we theorized. That your powers, while not equal, are almost parallel to Loki's" Fury shoots over a glare, but the dark-haired man seemed uninterested in returning the favor, yet the tension in his shoulders said that what he had just heard was a blow to his pride.

"What they call magic on Asgard is Earth's equivalent of psychic abilities, though to a lesser degree as our research has found out. That's why he'll be teaching you how to control your powers" What? Magic? What the hell was this idiot on about? There was nothing magical about what Sarah did. And wait a minute, this man was going to _teach_ Sarah how to-

"Now that I think on it, it was not that uncommon to have some followers of Loki here on Midgard who were supposedly capable of magic in centuries past when we were mistaken for true gods. Perhaps she is a descendant of them?" The gigantic blonde man now standing next to Fury boomed, making Sarah jump slightly. Fury nodded in consideration.

"Possibly. We would have to conduct more research and tests to verify if that truly is the case-"

"No tests," Sarah asserted, cutting the conversation to a halt. "Not yet anyway. And I haven't agreed to any of this yet" she added sternly. This was too much too soon. Loki, Asgard, magic? They expected her to believe that this was how they were going to help her? It was all so ridiculously sci-fi, no, it was ridiculously impossible. How did they think this was going to work?

"No, you haven't" Fury agreed, his harsh tone interrupting Sarah's thoughts "But then you really don't have a choice"

So much for the only wanting to help her bit. Sarah was never a complete fool to think that was their only intention, no one was that stupid. But this, she did not expect. Maybe because she had some faith in humanity, but now that was out the window. Not only were they going to 'help' her, they were leaving her no choice in the matter. Because there wasn't ever a choice.

She couldn't help it; she got angry.

Inhaling slowly, she tensed up her hands. Instantly things started to shake and a few of the other in the room looked around. Glass bits, light bulbs, even the table to a small degree shook and shuddered. It was chaotic, barely controlled, and it felt wrong to Sarah, self-conditioned to be anything but. To her pleasure though, she made a few of them jumpy. That American golden boy certainly looked worried, if just for everyone else. But unfortunately, Fury and little miss red were as calm as could be. Even so, Fury stepped forward to bring this to an end.

"Actually, now that I think on it, you're right. You do have a choice" Another step forward and he was suddenly before Sarah, looking down at her.

"You can choose to stay here at SHIELD, learn how to control your powers from Loki, and one day be a free agent receiving a fat pay check. Or," His voice reached a lower, harsher tone than before, making Sarah take a step back "you can choose to be locked up, and labeled as a danger to the public for the rest of your life. What will it be?"

Unable to take his stare, Sarah turned away, quieting herself as things stopped shaking. As she thought, they were leaving her no choice. She could fight, but against these people and their quick draws, it would be more of a painful mess than a fight. She had no one to call to rescue her, and she had little energy to argue any longer. Fury was giving her a choice, but it was obvious which she was being forced to choose. So, this is why she couldn't run before, even though everything natural in her called for it. Because she knew, the moment she woke up in the chair, there was no where she could run to anymore. She had run out of options. Except for one.

"I'll take door number one" She spoke, sitting herself back down in the chair, eyes trained on the floor.

"Good. It's settled then" Fury said as he straightened himself up, as if nothing had just happened. Pressing at the device that rested in his ear, he returned to his place at the table.

"Get Agent Striker back up here to escort Miss Evans to her room" He ordered to whoever was at his command. Crossing her arms over her chest as she slumped down into her seat, Sarah didn't pay attention as Stark came over, giving her a shrug.

"Welcome to SHIELD kid. Looks like you'll be staying here for a while" The way he said it, it almost seemed like an apology. Sarah closed her eyes, and smacked her head against the back of her chair with a grunt of exhaustion.

"Whoop-de-fucking-doo"

~o0o~

The LaLaBlue Post:

Man, I am so, so, so sorry it took me this long to update. Like I said before, just all bunches of stuff got in the way, and my passion for writing this one died for a bit. It's back now with a vengeance, so I would like to thank all those that gave this story a chance despite it all! Please comment if you have questions or just want to fan out with a fellow Loki obsessed senorita. Anyhoo, the next chapter will hopefully be up within a week, so till then, ta-ta!


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